student. student. student.

"student. student. student."

dated philosophers whisper "life is

a box of frayed ends." their bruised

hands & bent cocks are as worn as

their theories.

kids say "life is too much for me i'm tired

of learning." they talk & they talk. endless

direction, no follow through. all the kids

keep talking.

adults? work is buried underneath mounds of

cocaine. white towers of Babel stifling the senses

as they travel into the deepest recesses of the brain.

i'm a cynic,

it's a fact & you don't need to agree. people tell you

what matters, how things should be, but i could serve

the future better by burning this fucking degree.