screen lids, empty canisters,  a parade of drunk college kids hollering indignantly, the fuss of newness, the sickening unfamiliarity of newness, the retching but tolerated hyped up excitement of newness,  the news itself. And what happened to simple bullies with big muscles? now they come in complications. The creepy guy who quotes Emily Dickinson and loses his temper because he couldn’t paint his ex-wife as a gold digger in his divorce hearing. His need to dominate rather than sense any rejections, and the way he feels he needs to hurt those girls who think they are invincible because why don’t they know better. and he was never allowed to feel invincible much less free so how dare they trespass over his obsessions. the one who offers up a sympathetic ear and then says that you must respect his wish, he wants you to leave him alone because he had a girlfriend then and now and lied to his girlfriend then but not now, changing his wishes on demand for changing loyalties, to make one moral go with another, to make one mistake bleed into the moral, to make good, to make clean, or to just make another mistake, one you don’t respect, because history entitles respect on its own, and one moment doesn’t erase all of that, but apparently the friendship was never on its own in the first place if one is at war with their desires, and you can tame your desires, but never when it comes to passion, not then, not when it comes to taming anything, really, just that there are some days when you turn calm, like the earth, but only in how you feel, and in nothing else, not in how you express it, certainly not in how you disobey it, and not in how you participate or completely disavow yourself of it, and all of the above is not going to make the front page today, and yesterday geneticists did not discover anything because each one was working away in a cubicle on some small project that they heard was unrelated to all the others, each person playing their role for a giant monopoly, and the person who moves the pieces is always unseen, unknown, untraceable, but still, taken down often, for there is another to fit in the place, always another in everybody’s place, places shifting like pie charts going around, one slice of blueberry next to one slice of apple, let’s have enough left for all in Africa, let’s have enough left for all in line at the border, waiting to get their passports stamped so it says they have been to another place, so their life looks big and fancy.  the only thing that is hard is staying in the same place and not playing any roles, there you will go and the person playing hunter will hunt you down but you are not playing at being prey, and so you refuse to go, and this refusal is not met with anything but ridicule, you outcast, or much worse, the outcast that does not make money, how can you call your life your lives work, how can you know work, how can you know anything but free time that means nothing if it is wasted in thought, or in the empty span of Her Lady Sings to the pop machine, only coke, sprite, and teeth-rotting here, only a place pretending to look like the forties but no cigar, no, it’s banned, all banned, stop trying to hope and hurry up contributing in some obscene way that makes you unhappy, come on, you won’t be a professional student forever, and you, a nobody?  just get out of there and start already, a late start is better than never, and you can’t identify with them all, maybe you can do something, so what if you no longer can tell evil from good, that’s never the point, just get a hold of yourself!

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