The Ballad of Matt and Ezra (3)

I don't know what the point of this is, except I'm enjoying it. Previously (see below) we left Ezra telling Gilbert Arenas about health care, while Matt cooled his heels:

Ezra starts elucidating
While the cooling Matt is waiting
Out among the sad displays --
Off-branded stuff from Frito-Rays,
Sea salt-vinegar flavored snuff --
Matt stalks out, hot. Enough’s enough.

Abandoned and alone, he stalks.
And above him, floating where he walks,
A cloud pours rain -- but just on him.
When you're M.Y., you just can't win.
Like his shoes, his hopes are soggy:
It's hard, sometimes, being bloggy.

No future joy, he contemplates,
Could adequately compensate
For this pain now. Like Young Werther,
Why (he thinks) go any further --
Had he a gun, he'd fire it.
But where, in D.C., to acquire it?

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