Fuck The Man

I will not gather
In your prescribed
Roped off
And appropriately marked area

I will not share my thoughts
In your approved format
Leaving out words of passion
In short clear bullet pointed lists

I will not watch my clock
To gather at the appropriate time
When it is convenient for you
And least disruptive

I will not practice my civil disobedience in a manner that the Man prefers

Assorted Associations

You reap what you sow
That's how it goes
Apple seeds
Begat apple trees
Johnny learned that
And now there's a song about him

Nothing but strange elevator music on the playlist
But it is compelling
With a driving beat
Urging me on to Floor 24
With all the socks and underwear
I could ever want

Oh sweet surrender
To the song of summer
And Daylight Savings time
Which I've been doing all my life
Until I have enough for a new coat
That will cover up all the things I've never done

Unaccompanied minor stanzas
Crowding the public conveyance
Baffling the stewards
Who don't know where to put them
So they all end up in a certain order
Just like this

Weaponized Wrench

Here I lie
Cast in steel
Clad in chrome
Imprinted with sigil
Enclosed darkness my home

I await the beckon of your hand
Into which I fit naturally
To every curve and crevass
A weapon of repair and assembly
Unsheathed at last

Your king calls
To arms!
To arms!