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.