In Pain
Sitting on the sad stone floor
Desolate, cracks and holes
like a face full of bad acne
crying from the pressure
of a million feet a second
the Prof. Preaches Pain
9/11, Bush, Terror
tight chock-hold
upon the class
I read Bukowski outside, reaching
my ears towards his speech
Bukowski speaks of pain
pain of the individual
the Prof. speaks of pain of
everyone
of Iraqis
of American Soldiers
of the dead, pain released
the Floor is in pain
we are all collectively cracked
on the surface, in pain
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