So busy with power outages and catching up on work;
opting to honor Oakland’s general strike even though.
I decide that poetry and fiction for once
won’t count as work ,
more like sanity producing,
especially since it’s for charity.
I talk to Sarah, am relieved at her good spirits,
Can't help but onder how Anita steered
so many young, girl gimps into adulthood
without seeming to sweat,
even slightly.
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