Jacob Robert Bennett

Which is to say,

it shouldn’t bother me. It shouldn’t be

on my mind – his hand on

your ass in an Uber, your invitation

to his office Christmas party. The resentment should

feel cheap now. For what would

broken glass do? A median crossed, a

torn bumper, a drunk sheriff

off duty. What is

a eulogy, but an apology?

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Jacob Robert Bennett's poetry has appeared in Hobart, The Monarch Review, Quail Bell, and is forthcoming in Genre: Urban Arts and The Helix. He lives near Washington, D.C. Instagram: @jacobrobertbennett