So, what do you do when
the bastards of pain
camp on your front porch?
Do you politely ask them to leave?
Or do you wade into
them with rage and a machete?
Usually, with pain—physical, emotional,
whatever—the bastards like to watch.
Maybe if they can’t see you hurting
they’ll break camp and go find another porch.
Maybe it’s best to stare straight ahead,
even smile a small knowing smile,
and fool them into thinking that you
don’t feel a thing out of the ordinary.
Go ahead, wash your front windows
and let them get a good look.