Translation (WIP) of the Amanda Palmer song in memory of my German mom, Benita —the Anthony Martignetti of my life. She died last year.
“Scruple” derives from scrupŭlus, small stone. If you get a stone in your shoe, you’ll be uncomfortable. Today scruples make you hesitate when confronted with a moral choice.
This poem is halfway between David Allen and Charles Bukowski.
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