I’ve Heard

i know you don’t see it
buried in the paperwork of today
in my crying-morning complaints
that carry me through sunshine Tuesday
till i reach the full identification
of what i was searching for in the first place:

just a chance, a hoops-jumping chance,
in the paperwork hell that is our
modern American Dream,
that i could give them a better life,
one that doesn’t include a scramble
to register a twenty-year-old car.

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