me a note,
a text message actually,
because who really
sends notes anymore?
that would involve,
a pen and a small piece
of paper, which would
have to be folded
over and handed to you,
or slid into your mail
slot on the door.
regardless.
i get the text.
she tells me she can no longer
follow me on
my so called blog slash poetry
site.
i've offended her with
my ramblings,
my off center observations,
often leaning
right.
i can no longer be a part
of your literary
mishmash, posing
as poetry. i'm done, she says.
i've unfollowed you.
she signs her name, but
i still have no clue who
she is.
Robin, Jane, Sally Mae?
is that you.
Beatrice?
oh well. it's a shame.
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