On the TV, the republican argues with the democrat, then they go have a fancy lunch together. Nancy fucking Pelosi struts on the television and some old, white republican with a condescending snarl criticizes her on a different network. You take a side. You get into it. And they go and have $400 lunches. And you are looking for a receipt in a junk-drawer.
You are looking for change beneath the cushions of your couch, after rooting the television politicians, and they are clinking champagne glasses together in celebration of spending your money on something that isn’t going to help anyone or fix anything. A bus-stop to nowhere, a orchard of oligarch-trees dropping little, corporate fruits.
I survive on pemmican and greens, living in cave for two months. Every so often, I feel inclined to argue the side of the fox or the deer. Then, I give up, and think how fucking stupid. Because, I know that it is.
I’m not going to put your stupid hat on. You look stupid in it.
I was born in Kenya to a lowly white lady and failed Kenyan finance minister. I was born in Hawaii with no legs, but I could see mountains in the distance, palm trees above me. I was born in Chicago. Henry Kissinger dropped me when I was a baby. I was born in Washington. Honorious was 10 when he took office, but I don’t feed pigeons all day. I play basketball in the warm sun. When I wake up, Rome has been sacked and it was my friends who did it.