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Untitled (Samuel Jones-Bastrop, LA)

Emotional entanglements.
I don't feel comfortable calling them relationships,
Especially since no titles were ever involved.
I mean, come on,

Cars have titles. . .
Even pornos have titles!
And yet I, a perfectly good human being,
Have never been knighted with the title of "Sir Boyfriend."

This used to really bother me.
Like a stiff tag in a brand new clean, crisp T-Shirt,
A title was such a minuscule part of my entirety,
But it was still irritating as fuck.

This lead to feelings of loneliness, sadness,
And especially inadequacy.
I felt like that can, you know, the one the Wal-Mart stocker drops
That nobody buys because it's dented.

And that's no way to feel,
Especially when my mixed vegetables-
My inner content-
Was every bit as good as the next can's.

But I realize now that
It wasn't because of a silly dent
That no one picked me up (we all have dents, anyway).
It was because I was a few cents extra, mixed with the generics,

And they had left all their change in the car.


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