Tuesday, July 3, 2018

Vestigial Rage

A dozen selves barged their way into today.
They took up the space of two chairs.
I ought to have held back eleven of them:
only one hadn’t needed repairs:
endlessly winding and grinding and lying
unpacking their made-up affairs
and making ridiculous dicks of themselves
putting on their unbearable airs.
I ought, I suppose, to claim some of the blame
for letting them out to rampage.
Disingenuously crying “how did that happen?”-
thinly disguised vestigial rage
at the too many times that I barely could breathe
when I didn’t yet know that the page
I was on wouldn’t be the last page I’d be on.
Oh yeah, I unlocked their cage.

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