I was in 7th Grade

and you told me that you dreamed of us dying, the ozone layer failing, and all of our lungs struggling. Our faces were blue, eyes popping cherry vessels. You want to poke more holes in our canopy.
This could be a litany or a jeremiad.
But I know that I’m an asshole.
I scream at cars. It is easier. I chase them.
What would you do if you caught one?
I would wrestle the axle to the blacktop, twist the leg of the tire into a bowl, and throw the thing away. I would find my breath and apologize. I would accept my fault in this argument and fold my hands back into the pockets of my khakis.
I would ask for forgiveness for this mess. I would apologize for saying it.

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