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.

 

 

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