Hour Five

Write a persona poem. (Elitist)

I see you there,
hustling and bustling—up and down
this busy street, pressing in on peoples
lives with your scummy rags and watery
Windex. NO! I don’t want my windows
washed by those hands. This Mercedes
deserves the gentle touch of machine
controlled brushes. I don’t care that your
children are here to help too, I don’t want
anything to do with you. Do you think I get
out of work and care to have my time imposed
upon by some poor folk? It’s not my fault
you didn’t go to college. You should
have tried harder, woman. No I don’t want
a bouquet of roses, throw them on your
grave and drop dead.



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