by epi

i just read a story about a boy who killed himself
and there, at the end,
where i needed empty space for reflection,
was an ad.

at first i thought it was part of the story
meant to help us mourn.

like, this was a person
(before he was just a story to me,
he was somebody’s something)
and this is where he shopped
what we bought,

but, it was just…
one more way for the life of
(or rather, the death of…)
one more person
to be cheapened by our need
to consume things we don’t need.
but who am i to say anything–
girl with a closet full of clothes
but never anything to wear?
and yesterday i was driving by a homeless man
and i rolled my windows up
avoided eye contact
avoiding recognizing any of myself in him.
(i couldn’t humanize him without
losing my own humanity.)