i wonder what my landlord would do…
i mean, if He knew…
that a poet rented His basment.
would he let one stay?
’cause, cuz, they’re the worst to have.
oh, they might not make bombs,
or hold rallies;
but brother, they’re radicals just the same:
preaching rebellion,
seeking to “overthrow the established order”
perverting our point of view
asking us to think!
i know this, you see,
’cause i is one.