things left behind that others approach,
like trash at the curbside rifled through.
addenda never added here,
now sub-divided there.
my outcast,
your pièce de résistance.
water-logged books,
irreplaceable vinyl,tapes,
now mp3's.
sped-through yellow lights,
stopping now before the red.
a thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire,
now my one and only.
calling for strikes without workers' unions,
reinventing the wheel of oppression.
dismissed relatives sans reunion,
walked away from getting flack.
no waiting for apologies,
or revengeful eulogies.
be the change you want to see,
and not the stab in the back.
don't bother changing,
it's too small to be outgrown.
3-26-14
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