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The Way of the World

We know the ugly hate the beautiful,
and the bitter losers are all seething
over bad coffee, washed in the sleazy flourescence
of fast food restaurants. We know

the wheelchairs hate the shoes,
and the medicines envy the vitamins,
which is why sometimes a whole bottle
of sleeping pills will gather like a wave

and rush down someone's throat to drown
in the sour ocean of the stomach.
And let's not even mention the poor,
since hardly anyone does.

It's the way of the world-
the sorrowful versus the happy,
and the stupid against everyone,
especially themselves. So don't pretend

you're glad when your old friends
get lucky in work, or love,
while you're drifting through life
like a lobster in a restaurant tank. Go on,

admit it: you'd claw them to death
if you could. But you're helpless,
knocking futiley against clear glass you can't
break through. They're opening champagne,

oblivious of you, just as you don't notice
how many backs you've scrambled over
to get this far, you're black eyes glittering,
your slow limbs grimly and steadily working.

-Kim Addonizio

4:55 p.m. - 2006-01-31

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history - mystery