fitty 3

I was born in molong

don’t act like you don’t know

need we crawl through that again, fly back

to that backtrack piece of crap,

write a claptrap letter to a jacked-up past already scrapped? molong

rhymes with so long and I thought

I made that out – you

got it, right? under

bricks that pass as home we live

in murk, block our eyes, hide

the pupils of our souls; can’t see under that old

hood; put it on and pull down tight