Thanksgiving at 66 in the USA
Come after work. I will serve you a snack,Some turkey and dressing and mashed potatoes
I've carried home from the feast at my daughter's.
I have some wine. We can finish this night
Of loneliness (mine), exploitation (yours),
Licking fingers and burrowing into bed
Until morning, when both of us go back
To work. What we once were told would be
Golden years have proven to be only more
Of the same: labor and poverty. All that
Thanksgiving is to us has been some
Leftovers we share as snacks.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
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Written on 2019-11-29 at 04:05
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