So we measure our lives in coffee cups.
The cubicles of our prison house stock up the hours
we whittle laboriously away on chalks & blackboards
for another zero-sum that stares into everyday.
A new friend here or a new detractor there
& existential circumstance is neither right nor fair.
How did we end up with what we couldn’t dare
partake when we were young & easy under a boiling sun
that whips us to declare: Pour it on, we can take it anyway.
Negotiations, compromises to keep body in constant repair.
A mode of acting that would keep us going, going
until at midnight in our interrupted wailing
we scream our silent scream & poetically perish.

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