She’s been stabbed in the hand, and she’s squabbling with her ex,
and she preens in the bar after work with her bleached-blond sex.
And she may suffer stupidly, but the suffering’s true:
The crass are as capable of these things as you.

Neither beauty nor intelligence spares us from anything:
The slattern and the smart guy are equal in suffering:.
and that ordinary Joe you pass on the street
is walking with a void of agony at his feet.

Step carefully, then, in the judgements you employ:
The bold philosopher and the blond sex toy
and the ordinary Joe are all servants of pain,
stabbed in the hand for reasons they cannot explain.

Let her preen in the bar, then, and sort it out with her ex.
She’s simple in the head and her life’s complex.
Yours isn’t so different: You’re such a smart guy,
and somebody’s stabbed you, too, and you don’t know why.