remembering how this feels...

compromising music
.
drying white men in suits
and ties with their white
arm-toting wives support
music on the side like the
butter, the sauce, the sprig
of leaf atop the dessert
i’ve shook hands with all
of them i can’t wash away
one guy’s oil fields enough
and another lady’s rings
and the firmness of my
hypocrisy and i’m sorry
for running to you unclean
.
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