I am not drawing a line
I am not sewing progress
I'm not even doing laps
I'm treading water
And I feel lucky
that my arms are still working
Some people around me
hold onto boards and float by their teeth
And the people in their cars
drive around us
drawing line
after line
after line
making webs of our lives
til we can't discern
what we love
what we hate
what we need
How to grab onto the horns
of the flow greater than us
and end our oppression
Instead, I just hope
people are nice to each other.
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