Thank you for giving me the chance to make something of my life.
I really appreciate you allowing all this happenstance go somewhere safe and tidy.

Please accept my formal resignation.

However, please remember that all our problems can be resolved in thirty minutes by laugh-tracked sitcoms.
On television we see the bombs reduce their towns to rubble and we hear the cries and watch another child get ready for a life without his legs, his arms, or both. The television whispers in our ears of real problems, of problems that stick, of confiscations guns prisons torture-cells and other unreasoned arguments

Tomorrow you will find your way just fine
without me
And I will try to think through
some kind of response
to the fools gold glittering
all along the strip
while plump well-engineered breasts
kept kosher with Lone Star stars
sweat warm as beer sweats cool
on the same counter
where we’ll
check the cash against the receipts
in another couple hours
Everything’s going great