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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
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