to care
more about things,
i'd hang
onto the paper, the radio,
for updates
about the war, the possibility
of war.
the marches
downtown,
the protests.
the price of everything rising.
but what's the point.
something new
to gripe about.
i try to listen to my friend,
red faced
as he blows off
steam
about a world gone mad.
i shrug,
and ask him if he'd like
a wedge of lime
with his gin.
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