at the longest queues, with not the highest mark
for ancestral faults when he is taken to task

in the job applications,at the irrelevant check box
in the classifications which are all faux

in the carnivorous world, where flesh is abound
when traditional ethos become sore wounds

in the furcating nation where no branch is his
not one soul to listen to his pains, his hiss

after the long hot day, when he turns in the bed
not the back alone, the thread itches his head.

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