What are you going to do with all the Facts of Life?
What are you going to do with a fifty-year-old serving you and your classmates beer on a patio?
With a janitor and a billionaire?
What are you going to do with hand-sewn slippers and pigeon shit on the corroded bus station hand-rail?
With coffee stains and bad breath and middle age?
What are you going to do with individual agency and systematic oppression?
What are you going to do with the fact that no matter how badly you were wronged nobody is going to truly understand or make allowances for your suffering?
What are you going to do after you graduate and get laid?
What are you going to do with day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day of work?
What are you going to do with JFK?
With murdered and missing aboriginal women and Attawapiskat?
With the Twin Towers and stateless refugees?
With Western Mustangs and public murals of pink and coral?
What are you going to do?
