stop being you

it's not the money
it's the principle of the thing
I say
with a forceful
strident voice, one foot
on the proverbial
self righteous
soap box.
how dare they, the nerve,
the audacity
the outrage of their
callous behavior. who do
these people think they are?
but I settle down soon,
unable to keep up the vigor
of my position.
I calm down and slip
into a nice quiet
reflective place
after a drink
or two. I watch as
the sun slips under
the veil
of a summer black sky
set with diamonds,
without even the thinnest
of moons. how quickly the world
loses its power
over you
when you stop being you.