the thick frames surrounding
my prescription perspective,
are the curtains to the ceaseless show.
the same charade everyday.
it's a 4-15 minute drive from my apartment to the campus.
4 minutes if the dark-humored, aliens that control stoplights are kind,
15 if they are looking for a laugh.
my feet hit parking concrete outside of classrooms.
it's rhythmic yet mundane.
but it's a game we all play.
i fall into line, the slow parade of apathy,
that leads us to lectures each day.
the professors project views of wicked youth,
we like white, pull-down sheets,
sport whatever image they insist,
so easily.
it's branded boys
and
tanning bed-inspired girls.
it's blind acceptance and
weightless regret.
i want to change lenses.
pull the curtain,
and start all over again.
Jun 1, 2010
Jun 1, 2010 at 10:14 AM UTC
the thick frames surrounding
my prescription perspective,
are the curtains to the ceaseless show.
the same charade everyday.
it's a 4-15 minute drive from my apartment to the campus.
4 minutes if the dark-humored, aliens that control stoplights are kind,
15 if they are looking for a laugh.
my feet hit parking concrete outside of classrooms.
it's rhythmic yet mundane.
but it's a game we all play.
i fall into line, the slow parade of apathy,
that leads us to lectures each day.
the professors project views of wicked youth,
we like white, pull-down sheets,
sport whatever image they insist,
so easily.
it's branded boys
and
tanning bed-inspired girls.
it's blind acceptance and
weightless regret.
i want to change lenses.
pull the curtain,
and start all over again.
Copyright 2010 by Joshua J. Hutton
Request permission to use this poem