My Therapy Buddy

my best friend comes to visit
and i tell her im so upset
about george orwell and ernest hemingway
i can barely contain my rage

she asks 2 questions:
1)”Have you found a therapist yet?”
2)”Don’t you like Jack Kerouac?”

“Well, no, and yeah.”

“Then, you’re part of the problem
he was the worst sexist of them all.”

I ask, “Really?”
and she spells it out for me.

slowly, again, I start to breathe
Im laughing, even

“you’re right,” i tell her,
“but I still like him.”

“So, I guess it’s not really
an insurmountable problem,”

“The sexism in the world?
Yeah, it’s nothing I cant handle.”

4 thoughts on “My Therapy Buddy

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