We often disagree, my closest friend
and I, about mundane experience.
Mature and metro, we should comprehend
alike discourtesy. Imperious
she waxes if her path should intersect
with rudeness from a stranger. There’s a role
that breached she calls a case of disrespect,
which I see as a loss of self-control.

She harkens when she argues back to youth –
behavior’s gauged by post-war memories –
but my perspective’s closer to the truth:
it’s filterless impulsiveness disease.
We’re poisoned, stressed by traffic, noise, and rays.
We should be glad we aren’t worse, these days.