A Crisis Unmasks Everyone.

Early Every Morning An Old Woman Goes To The Market To Curse A Grocery Clerk, Who Curses Back.

Nostalgia Keeps Dissolving The Ironic Narratives In Which I Have Contained My Past.

My Reluctant Charity Shames Both Me And The Recipient.

A Well-paid Occupation Is Seldom Spoken Of As "rewarding.

Regretting The Past Does Not Prevent Me From Repeating It.