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Dregs (a poem)

Originally written on 03/31/14.

The dregs at the bottom of 
My well-used wine glass.

The remnants of a society
At war with maturity.

Middle-aged men who are
Oblivious to social norms.

Miller Lite receptacles
Littering our streets.

Radios blaring mind-numbing,
Top-40, bass-driven nonsense.

The horror of reaching the bottom
Of my glass of Moscato.

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