I ARRIVED IN THAT TOWN, EVERYONE GREETED ME AND I RECOGNIZED NO ONE. WHEN I WAS GOING TO READ MY VERSES, THE DEVIL, HIDDEN BEHIND A TREE, CALLED OUT TO ME SARCASTICALLY AND FILLED MY HANDS WITH NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS

this is the title of a poem by J.V. Foix (1893-1987)
the poem doesn’t appeal to me, but the title fits perfectly..

CONFLICT:
RESOLUTION OF CONFLICT-
AVOIDANCE OF CONFLICT.

that is my little poem, and thinking about it exhausts me, utterly.

my instincts are to run, and to keep on running-
but with my dwindling resources, my responsibilites to my enclave
and my dusty museum of posession, possessions-
there is nowhere else to go..
i daydream about being alone, completely.
this is the other world; the escapist reverie
where i answer only to myself, and there is no one to piss off
except myself.

relinquish this repugnant victimhood-
it does you no good.