People don’t care . . .

A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly

People don’t care—

not really.

They care if there is a bloated belly,

a bloody newsreel,

a dirty, tear-stained cherub staring them in the face.

It’s a moment of light,

but

the dryer dings,

the tire goes flat,

the to-dos mount.

Staring them in the face,

it’s a blinding blur,

and

need succumbs to the big, gigantic self

while someone suffers.

Alone.

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