tired I count the ways in which it determines my life
permeates everything it’s in the air
lives next door to me in stares of neighbors
meets me each day in the office, its music comes out the radio
drives beside me in my car, strolls along with me
down supermarket aisles
it’s on television
and in the streets even when my walk is casual/undefined
it’s overhead flashing lights
I find it in my mouth
when I would speak of other things

-Wanda Coleman