Different

I must be someone very different to him
than I am to me.
Maybe I'm some fast-talking jack-ass
some know-it all jerkweed
some high-maintenance poindexter.
If he saw me in a bar
he would hate me in that bar.
I hope god doesn't see me through his eyes.

1 thought on “Different”

  1. maybe he is g_d. maybe we all are. or, maybe, just maybe, we are all fast-talking jackasses. either way, to someone without sight or sense of sound or touch, we only smell different.
    “Like,—but oh how different!
    Yes, it was the Mountain Echo.”
    —William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

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