And if all unfolded as I wished,
every desire would begin a kiss;
the last glass of wine would withhold
the drunken weeping of the old.
Then I could sit in self-satisfaction
receiving all through my inaction.
Such are the smug reflections
when privilege has no correction.
(from a work in progress, “Aracana,” IXCups, January 15, 2014)
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