the wind blows hard tonight
 
and it’s a cold wind
 
and I think about
 
the boys on the row.
 
I hope some of them have a bottle of
 
red.
 
it’s when you’re on the row
 
that you notice that
 
everything
 
is owned
 
and that there are locks on
 
everything.
 
this is the way a democracy
 
works:
 
you get what you can,
 
try to keep that
 
and add to it
 
if possible.
 
this is the way a dictatorship
 
works too
 
only they either enslave or
 
destroy their
 
derelicts.
 
we just forgot ours.
 
in either case
 
it’s a hard
 
cold
 
wind.

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