Ad Absurdum Pt. I

There is ten minutes 'til my train's departure.

There is a man bathing in the bathroom sink.

There is a wet spot on my pocket; I don't know how it got there.

There is room enough for all of us anywhere we go.

There are blotches of orange paint on my watchband.

There are no seats left on the train.

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There is a large hole in my shoe, but this pair is more comfortable.

There are pounds of sugar waiting for my coffee in Egypt.

There are gay bars screaming louder than the colors of my shirt somewhere downtown.

There is no one here who wants to sit next to my innate loudness.

This is the quiet ride car, 2514.

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There is no hiding the color of my skin and there is no hiding from it.

A wiser man than I would cover his skin like scars, but I wear my scars with pride.

There are scars on my arms that I resent, but only those

without a story.

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