grief like a late night mugger
snarling face and a gun in your ribs, except it's not like that
it's mid-day and the sun is shining
and a brick hits the back of your head

hair sticky, nose wet where it broke on the concrete
and your shit’s all gone, dazed … what the what happened?

it's your blood all over the sidewalk? (two blocks from Starbucks?!)
a bus or a bike rolls by and the sun is shining
and you yell "stop! thief!"
but nobody saw him, not even you

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