The Laminated List

I hadn't seen her in quite
a while, but there she was
pacing the corner in front of
a coffee shop. from what I heard
nothing had changed, although

it reached a point
where she draped herself
in black to reflect
the mourning she was
perpetually in.

she made a list of all her
ailments and problems,
both medical and mental, and
all the slights she had
suffered in her life,
whether real or imagined.

they were written in gothic
print,
in a long row on a sheet
of white paper.

there they were,
all her issues typed
out and laminated,
then strung around her neck
with a wire chain laced
in thorns.

at the top,
in bold black letters it said.
I'M A VICTIM,
please, take your time
and read. help me.

nice, i told her, good
idea. saves you a lot
of time in telling everyone
your troubles when you see them.

i see you still have the
same basic twenty problems from
twenty five years ago.
still working on them, eh?
that's a shame.

but the laminating though
is gold, it's a great idea,
what with all this rain
we've been having.

can I get you a cup of coffee,
I asked her,
i'm going in for my usual.
want one? sure, she said, thanks.
black, she said.
no sweetener, no sugar, no cream.
just black.
I winked at her,
of course, I said.
of course. cold?
yes, she said. cold and black.