I wonder how Trump must feel, losing his house,
Right about now families suffer the cold
I wonder if he’s familiar with empathy,
Fallen in apathies, feeling simply
This is what it’s like…

I tell my mother
That it’s bullying when they say **** like
“Might as well pack up now I’m filing for your eviction”
**** like that, in a time of COVID,
You must file with the Court for assistance.
I don’t need to tell my mother
How to fight the hatred,
Struggling to get by
One way or another,
This is what it’s like…
(Thy neighbor as thy brother?)


The caustic relationships we **** ourselves to have,
As we keep the dust swept under the rug,
As we’re drained of our chi, convince ourselves perhaps
It’s meant to be, friends to the end of our childhood,
I’m exhausted hoping that you’d keep your word
Adult friends learn common curtesy during
childhood, ya know

Now I’m grown and what I know is —
         There’s someone you know standing out in the cold
Waiting for the bus, close to midnight
And you’d rather drink and ****,
My apologies, I don’t do either, mothertruckers.
In the desert it’s a must to sweep out the dust
Last and final warning,
Cold waiting at the bus —stop...