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[Today I went]

ISSUE:  Spring 2012

Today I went to get the tax forms we
needed from the federal building, and
the thick, bald, simultaneously smug
and envious low-level bureaucrat

in his stupid no-color cube told me
they didn’t have them: he called them (as if
I’d asked for some boutique, Costa Rican
chocolate) specialty forms. Fuck him. Fuck

this small-town city. And as for the knee-
jerk advice—Positivity—fuck you.


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