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The Psycopathology of Everyday Life
after Freud

The old woman,
so small, that when I held
the stop door open for her,
she passed in easily
under my arm.
Somewhere in that split-second,
between the chivalrous act
and the thought
that the ungrateful cow
might be treating me
as a doorman,
I released the heavy,
thightly-sprung door.

I still hear the thump
as it caught her
in the small of her back.