In an effort to make this brief
                        (because self-pitying satire is the
                         least pitiable of all writings):

On the sidewalks, I hear collegiates laughing.
In my most intimate memories
                        (you know the ones),
        I hear bones rattling.
I have a trained ear, and the symphony of the human race
        sounds like cash registers and death bells tolling.
It's so hard to find quiet, or even anything calm,
        like your breathing.