bishop, some rabbis,
in tubular silence....
under a family tree of compliance...
roots spreading far, continental in drift....
yet, I was born and it is such a gift....
when the dog howls
when the crowd growls
when I'm feeling flupped
I simply remember
my lineage, vast
and then I don't feel so schtupped....
Comments about this poem (a by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it......... )
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