Fourteen thousand dollars for the university’s
grueling block of hours eating
away at my love of learning, at my core
happiness, meanwhile
joining the masses in the free,
delight of Plato and Dickinson,
Whitman and Williams
Churning my thoughts into more
matter with
less art
than the masters-
Unfriend me here when you
unsex me there
And tie me down with golden ribbons
when you tell me how much
longer I must do this lest I
hop the cliff with my own wax wings
knowing full well how the
story turns out.
I stick my tongue out at you,
Plato, because in that, you were
right. The gods’ behaved
atrociously, and I may want to
be just like them.
Word Play 