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Jul 2010
"That's not,"
matt was yelling
"your water,
ron!"
from behind my back.
"This is my
lawn,"
ron replied defensively
as i looked
down at
the ants building
"Yea, that's your
lawn, but it's,"
an empire under the
sidewalk.
"not your spigot!"

i looked up
"I don't take orders
from you!"
to see the clouds in
"Okay, but that's,"
the sky. they were
"not your water, ron!"
flat and streaking
across the
"YOU AREN'T THE BOSS,"
sky tonight.
"OF
ME,
MATT!"
i could hear
"RON, STOP USING THAT,"
the sounds of
"SPIGOT! IT ISN'T
YOURS! YOURS IS,"
traffic bustling to
"OVER THERE!
THAT IS NOT YOUR,"
and fro
out on
"WATER!!"
third
"YOU AREN'T THE,"
street.
"BOSS OF,"
i turned to walk inside
"ME!!!
!!!
"
and am confronted with images of recruits for the Phillippine army being slapped and punched on the television i left on so it could entertain itself because it was making me too sick to keep trying to quit smoking.

What a strange universe
i have found myself in,
i can't wait to
leave it
behind.
Copyright Nygil McCune, 2010
Written by
Nygil McCune
548
 
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