I'm sort of ready to sweep them under the rug
Followed by the Mexican Hat Dance
Or a tantrum.
Croaking, shaking, too trusting, too paranoid.
Just so I don't have to think about it anymore.
Today I was told I was losing my job.
A dead canary in the mine.
I should be running out screaming
But all I do is sit here
Waiting for it.
I can't imagine this struggle going on
For sixty more years.
Living through decades of pain
Only to be hated by some spiky-haired kid
Who used to work at the bank.
LA Times Festival of Books
3 minutes ago