For just the slightest slice
of expression.
I want to pen the lines of my people
In poetry
Instead of pining in lines in the grocery
Instead of all this thick mundane and money-to-make
I want to agitate
I want to be like you, Dr. Angelou
To drink whiskey and spill a masterpiece
In long hand
With a deck of cards
In a hotel room I have rented
for that very purpose
I want to narrate the brightness on this side
Of Gulus