An Explosion of Tears and Snot
Don’t talk to me about Caps Lock until you’veseen the group chat. Don’t talk to me aboutcommon sense until you’ve done jury duty.Don’t talk to me about the unaffordable livingwage until you’ve paid my rent. Don’t talkto me about hard work until you’ve beenunemployed. Don’t talk to me about the RMAuntil you’ve lived downstream. Don’t talk to meabout red tape until you’ve peeled it from mylawyer’s mealy mouth and clicked send. Don’ttalk to me about level playing fields until you’vewalked the sectioned land. Don’t talk to meabout immigrants until you know where I’mcoming from. Don’t talk to me about cyclists.Just don’t. Don’t talk to me about love and itscrazy raisons d’être because love is always, insome baffling way, French. Don’t talk to meabout pain until you’ve curled up on the clifftop.Don’t talk to me about privilege because there isno silver spoon, I mean lining, I mean bullet.Don’t talk to me about gridlock because I saw thesleek features of the status symbol I’m drivingswoop the ad’s digitally enhanced emptiness and Ibought it. Don’t talk to me about the shockingthings you’ve just read. Don’t talk to me aboutanything. Are you listening? Can you hear whatI am saying?
