Friday, December 20, 2019

[The Second-Class Immortal] a poem








This frame of myself is bigger than my surroundings;
 I’ve flogged the vagrant in me too much now,
wither away now is a penal-colony condemned criminal,
a second-class citizen made second-class immortal
 from second-rate ideal and education.

-I take my steaks rare, still a ham and eggs man despite
 my knowledge of the short strata of DNA;
I still eat with the peasants and bleed with the starving artist,
 revolutionaries camped on State Street;
Who needs a dream to grasp for when their reach has only been sufficient enough to strangle the hope from them?




Dontrell Lovet't
-from [Leitmotif]

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