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People Are Generally Wonderful

A live-in bitterness

Who ignores the coasters

And thrusts the jacket to the floor,

But not in a good-natured way.


She is not absent-minded

Except perhaps in the sense that—

No, not even that.


Bitterness, the invalid, is most

Eminently present and bloated

To falsely fill every interaction

With this and this

Delightful, daring human.

Bitterness, the bitch, cat-calls

Her own kind and projects

Veneers of sneering

Peacoats, which under the glare

Grow taller and more pretentious.


But they are children, all, and our

Dearest friend the bitter ascribes

A malice as ludicrous

As her own familiarity—

Stacking them one atop the other.


So I saw the door in two and admit

The children are simple and honest and

Delightful, daring humans;

And bitterness with her rusted iron spine

Cannot retrieve her jacket.

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