.
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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