G · Poetry

Headphones

Instead of talking to this stranger sitting next to me,

who came from macro-evolution or theological miracle depending on who you ask,

who went to school (and may have multiple slips of paper to prove it)

who cheated on tests or boyfriends (or both)

who has rings on every other finger (each containing a story, maybe)

who is in debt, or maybe an abusive relationship

who remembers 9/11 or Michael Jackson’s death in a different way than me,

who cried when a high school friend died

            from alcohol poisoning

            or opioids

            or a twisted car wreck

who has plans for life, or at least tonight

who I’ll never see again

            providing no strange twists:

            like snake eyes three times in a row.

I’m writing this, and listening to CNN.

 

 

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