He is so angry
it is making him sweat
pacing the bank
yelling into
his cell phone.
There is a forceful intimacy
to this much rage
as though he has undressed
and is flashing us
making us look.
I want to protect
the stranger
on the other end
of the phone
from the metallic slap
of his words.
But I am afraid of bullies
the tautness of their tempers
like a shark or a bear
they swallow the space
for reason.
So I let him spin
himself out
like a tired tornado
leaving us
strangers
bonded by discomfort
none of us
brave enough
to find a voice
that is strong
without being
loud.
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