People in shells are still people

by danetreous

Context — I can find it difficult to recall that I am fond of humans when I get distracted by startup roulette wealth.

 

Soles standing on cracked asphalt, corner light
turns flashing yellow, white man pops to sign
when blitzkrieg roar of Porsche urbanite
whips up my toxic envy at goldmine
of winnings startup-starting youth had won.
My marched attention migrates inwardly,
from there I search for how to have outdone
my salary’s shackles. Thoughts therein blurred “free”
with jealousy and judgment, vice ascribed,
attached to spoiler matte Carrera choice
that there on pavement rubber burns inscribed.
His car was as a braggart’s pleading voice.
Distaste dissolved now, realize the fault
was mine allowing baseless mental vault.

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