What Strange Times We Live In
where “fuck you”
is synonymous with
“fuck me,”
when “you” is a
reflection of the self
and “me” is lost,
rarely seen or mentioned –
being too informal
or perhaps not fashionable
enough.
So “me” is used when necessary
and never indulgently,
(we do enough of that as it
is) – indulgence, I mean –
oh yes. Oh, yes…
yet “ego” fra(mes)(&)(its)elf,
hiding between prefix and suffix,
rooting a canopy of an idea in your mind.
It’s not really applicable,
or compatible
or even, odd, et al –
and you realize that “me”
is kind of like the number
zero. Just a concept,
nothing more,
nothing less;
somesense.