FOR S WHO WONDERS IF I GET MUCH JOY OUT OF LIFE Poem by Eunice de Souza

FOR S WHO WONDERS IF I GET MUCH JOY OUT OF LIFE



As a matter of fact I do.
I contemplate, with a certain
grim satisfaction,
dynamic men who sell better butter.
Sometimes I down a Coke
implacably at the Taj.
This morning I terrorized
(successfully)
the bank manager.
I look striking in red and black
and a necklace of skulls.

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