Poem: Privilege | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine
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Poem: Privilege 

Yes it is
a privilege
to bathe
in your tub
while singing
in a hopelessly bad
tenor voice
and then
slip between your sheets
and make love to you
then roll over
and dream until dawn
when I could be
five hundred miles
southwest of here
and doing
none of these things.
Yes, I could be
having a good time there.
But a privilege?
I don't think so.

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