tonight
brevity became an art
danced on the tips of tongues
like the aftertaste of fine wine
and you
spoke in dialects of emancipation
as if we could glorify helplessness
with our words
because
you
are fine(s)
the way tickets are penalties
for better outcomes
alternate routes
forty ounces away from freedom
fine
like assertions
(affectations)
that pour out wordplay
the way
whiskey spilled on the floor
because we are
the objectified proletariat
glorified in academia;
self-referential fourth walls
to keep us
from breaking
that glass ceiling
Sunday, January 18, 2009
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