i do not know “what i am,”

i do not know “what i am,”
except a worker

to pay for groceries
like you

i do not know
what “race” to mark
on legal forms

or what “middle class”
means today

or where my next paycheck
is coming from…

all i know
is that the world
my parents gave me
doesn’t work

and i’m pretty sure the only chance
that me and my fellow free-falling
millenials have
to keep on eating

is to make
the world


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