Thursday, June 11, 2015

"Glare of shoosh"

Glare of shoosh,
Din of protest, personal
and urgent, meaningless
shrieking babies. They know
life is miserable. But we learn
to smile, learn to love the living
hell in our loins, the dull ache
of solitude in the circle
of those who claim to have our back
and tell us we are not
fat. I am a fat fuck
,on an airplane, dreaming
of skewering the tiny larynx
of a baby with a prickly
plastic fork—unrepentant.

Munich-San Francisco, in transit

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