Through the mist and dust and
The dead leaves. A path that
Carved itself out of the forest
Aspiring to become a road-
With re-enforced cement or
An asphalt overlay hoping to
Reach a distance city.
Now it chokes in a tiny room.
And the timber of the pine,
That wanted to be reams and
Reams of paper be part of
One of Murakami's novel
Now sits on some professor's
Desk hosting a research paper
Claiming- how refusal to watch
Black people porn-
Is an obvious measure of
The racism in your veins.
One of those dinosaurs,
Must have dreamt of becoming
A red giant maybe. Then it
Ate dust on that fateful day-
And now it's a fried chicken
On my plate.
One of those primates that
Aspired to be an alpha to
Rip those bullies and to have
New damsels daily as trophies-
Somehow ended up as my
Father and his sperm that
Won must have had hoped
To be a cool brat at least.
But no, he had to be a poet,
Philosopher and a loser.