Days Down College Road

I’ve wrestled with devil in blue grass. That college that picks pockets and helps itself to damsels’ purses fixed nooses just off seventy-five south, over Clay-way Bailey. The viaduct that divides two states divides thieves from Potter Stewart’s Court House. I refused to march the underground rail road; a black man rules the white house. The dean, like Mathilda’s Trunchbull, is as mean as salt on back of barn toad; she lifted con from condescending. I relished reflection of her standing stiff like light pole, frozen by the return from her calling the school “the company” They were to give me what I pay for, but madam flying high on stilettos was too uppity to climb down and meet me. Requests made were called controversies, but to me it was freedom, and I (pusher of this pen) was on battlefield with Jamaican fire. A competent crook cover ass with alibis, and you should never be seen as obstacles … If you are ***** and alone walk with caution, but not so with me; I should live Luther’s dream, ‘cause I own college road. It was my journey. I stood stout, like Michael, to cast the devil out. With Obama fueling *******, I wonder why Sam is blind to the now white-collar crime? I sure hope there are copycats up college road.