At the post office,
behind mouth harness,
I witness a woman complain
to no one about her wait.
She just wants
her voice too be heard
so she feels alive,
but it is not the mailclerk’s
problem that she didn’t have
the customs form filled out.
This is not why I hate her,
but it adds to it;
I hate her because she
is wearing broken Crocs,
and has a tattoo of a cross
on her left cankle.
This is a woman that
want’s it all,
but gives nothing,
but her opinion
when she wasn’t asked.
She wants someone
on her side,
especially in this dilemma,
but her atrocity
is just abject fear
of death and she
is taking it out on the mailclerk,
wasting all of our time,
instead of just filling out her form
and throwing those gross old Crocs
in the ocean.
I hope she soon meets
Lyndon Johnson in hell,
and that she has a sincere
audience for her rants,
because she is wasting her
afternoon with trivial shit
like this.