some words on friday

sprouts of a new fresh day
the uncollected people looking toward each other
are we a bundle?
a microcosm of violence,
a virus in a penguin's blood

damn stanchion of a nation's poor,
belittling your demand
for your own satisfaction.

i believe in longevity.
i believe in freedom. I
believe in everything you've
already taught me. come to the
boathouse, nude, and i'll
give you a robe.

2
seen through new eyeballs
this classroom is a curse
a feast for eyeballs

seen through prison bars
her body is a banquet
albeit coming with a fee
like an ATM from a rival bank

3
i'm so fucking sick of sitting here