Wanna taste of this? “… ifs and buts and promises SO specious …”

They told her so many dates and figures and the only

common-denominator elements consisted, Alice-like,

of jam tomorrow. 

Only the future existed in their universe, and 

meantime, they insisted on

making both her family and her live 

an awful grinding poverty-

stricken ticking of a countdown of sand-ridden

clockings of biological waste.

Do you really wanna taste of that? 

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