i’m the queen
of the piece of *****
with unlimited potential.
they line in my court,
mostly bummy musicians
with their ****** guitars
and voices smooth as silk.
some wear glasses,
books tucked under their arms,
Nietzches rambling about
the death of god.
others conceal lighters
in their ***** packs
along with keys to old subarus
with kayaks on top,
and a stash of grass.
i knight them
in parades-
the gentlemen of
the modern age.