They say that social pain, is the worst kind of pain

a human can endure…

and some people enjoy social pain

daily.

Think of it…

What would it be like to break your femur

on a daily basis?

Many people do

and this is why

there are many suicides

but some social outcasts

heal stronger

until their bones are made of iron.

In a society

the social war rages

and the medical tents are filled with

drug overdoses

alcoholics

neurotics, with battle fatigue

and a host of medical disorders, that have no known cause.

Bureaucracies

break people.

These institutions

are similar to

high school

and the clicks that form.

Professionals, who work there

have egos

like a demon, carried in their briefcases

or handbags.

The administrator with the gold bracelets

and smart watch

silk blouse

and fake blonde hair

has a Chihuahua

inside her Louis Vuitton purse.

Her meeting was held to improve communication

between the parents and the school

but it took two and a half hours

to have, a slow-cooked meal

that upset my stomach.

What I can’t understand

is how they talked so much,

and communicated so little.

The specialist wears fake glasses, so that she seems smarter

but the more she talks, the stupider, she sounds—

there’s a lizard inside her purse

that she strokes.

The male administrator

is bald.

He wants to let everybody know

he is listening to their feelings.

His ego, is a pet monkey, in his briefcase.

Occasionally, he feeds it bananas

and it shits, on his paperwork.

90 minutes in

the 5-foot-tall Jewish lady

tells me, “A high schooler died today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. There was no warning. They just died.”

She’s going to retire in two months

Her ego is a canary, that doesn’t sing—

it will, when she retires.

I sit in the meeting, not talking

only watching

the important people talk.

I feel their emotions of hate—

even the professionals don’t like the family.

The lawyer, kills their egos, with a smile on her face

with a plastic bag, suffocating

their pets, stroked in secret.

My ego is a cat

brown, with yellow eyes

It sleeps in plain sight

but nobody can see it.

I don’t need to stroke it.

It’s as independent, as the killer it is

and it listens, but it doesn’t say anything.

When the meeting is done

the professionals talk

“Oh—the reason I got angry was because I didn’t like how she was treating that teacher…” the male monkey said.

“Yes—you did the right thing,” the female Chihuahua barked.

“What’s that smell?”

“Something shit in my purse.”

I quickly get up, and leave the meeting

as silently as a cat

It’s sunny skies

outside,

that grim building

of death.