A poem a day in April from Rutgers English PhD students and friends.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Misanthrope

You should only be one on Wednesday
b/c mercredi and Moliere and the letter M
but sometimes Wednesday leaks into Thursday
and even Friday if you don't sleep well
& the nurse says that medicine will kill you
& won't say why, so you spend all your time
deducing like the Sherlock of OTC active ingredients
and it turns out to be alcohol? That's the problem?
Well, fuck you, Nurse Molly Hatchet
and fuck you five inhalers and fuck you Neti Pot,
even if I seem to be the only person in the world
whose cough and snot these miracles make worse
and fuck you casual racist guys I heard about at lunch,
I wish I could call you up and yell at you
but my throat hurts and also I don't know your last names,
and fuck you weirdly racist definition of inclusive
that maybe I'm not really understanding because anyway
I don't want to see anyone I'm already two people
just like those twins from The Social Network
did you know there are all these girls who want to believe
Jesse Eisenberg and that other guy are in love?
I don't really want to see them either.
I don't want to get texts from my uncle
where I can't tell who else is on the recipients list
and do you call it a recipients list in texting
and who is the person who wrote back saying
wtf and who is this, like is it my cousin or a stranger
and do questions like that matter to misanthropes?
and don't try to initiate an entirely unscheduled business call
and claim we are "playing phone tag" when in fact
you just made an entirely unscheduled business call,
that's not how it works, business associate,
uncle, crew-rowing twins, jerk on the subway,
racist art guys, obstructionist nurses, I hate you all
even though if I close my eyes and lie so still on the pillow
I can kind of feel my way back to about a week ago 
when I was so so happy to be alive and the world was blossoming
and I was part of it

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