It's a Poetic Contusion. The Pain
of my People speaking through me. The name
is Epithet that cuts through my Veins. So
listen here. It's not very Nice to throw us
from History. Sent out of Time and Place,
made invisible elbisivni edam.
It's Easy being an Intellectual.
The hard part is the Middle Core. Open
heart procedure, take a beating, then two
more. For the Volta, I give you my pyre:
Oh rhythmic beauty of prosodic time.
arc de triumph, raging flame of the mind.
a yellow tassel from 2005.
Voila! I've learned to calm fire with rhyme
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