My friend, my friend, I was born    doing reference work in sin, and born    confessing it. This…

My friend, my friend, I was born   
doing reference work in sin, and born   
confessing it. This is what poems are:   
with mercy
for the greedy,
they are the tongue’s wrangle,
the world’s pottage, the rat’s star.
—Anne Sexton, “Mercy for the Greedy”
I need to learn this. Mercy for the greedy. Am I capable of it?

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