Empty

Like an abandoned pipeline in the backyard, Like a subway station after evacuation, Like the sign-up line for sacrificial means, Like concern groups dealing with outcast teens, Like a church, whose pastor likes children too much, Like a school councelor's office during lunch, Like the hands of the hungry and dead, Like a hole in my head, Like sympathy for the rich, Like empathy for my cause, Like the observation deck of a rape victim's recovery, Like the camera operators at department stores, Like their camera bubbles, Like this poem, Like these words, Like me. Like you. Written November 21st, 2001 © on Nov 21 2001 07:57 AM PST   0 • 1