After the snapshots of North Carolina,
And the explanation of parasitic brainwashing,
I found the section on beef.

I found the young man, a photographer,
Whom had moved into an apartment with a girl
And her yellow shorts.

A barbeque, a welcoming party.

And my innocent blood froze when I saw
That gray dress with polka dots
And those legs from underneath it,
And the short-cut, red-brown hair,
Pale skin and back-of-the-neck
Of the woman whom I conceded my faith
My will, my being,
And my hand.

I closed the magazine and walked away,
Stunted.