Dropped my bag and books
obsessed with material possessions
shame and panic what a flavor
colleagues neurotic
Long dark wooden halls
As if our world was inside
the insane grains of wood our meadows
obligations to others our sky bearing down on us
James the ginger playing pranks on me
Almost conjuring a shape of a smile
When a hundred would have spilled laughter
slaughtered deer guts planks red dried
Into his hair
Dropped my bag and books
Appeared afront the committee with nothing
They'd judge me naked
One thousand faults
a small vat of mercy
sitting empty up at the bar
wig balanced frown well traced
Ugly hope
Another joke drilled into the mind
by a devlish insecurity
who merged the creeks of anxiety
To get one horrid torrent
Slaughtered deer guts
keeps the cycle voluptuous
For the next generation
A balance the human smile can fatten on
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