This Is How The intellectuals Play?

Upside down halos, and spun around crosses.

Kicked in the behind until he’s here, the droopy boy with eager ears, for the slow hum of apathy, gliding in with it’s arms extended and lightly smiled out through the mouth. They have an allergic sleep. Contagious, it’s harming.

And on the yellow-tint lights I’ll dance fifty feet above you all proclaiming, for the boats not sinking anytime soon, that this is how the intellectuals play. First they see a cage with a bird inside, they go to dismantle this cage with the grace of an alcoholic who hadn't seem to have heard of dignity in the first place. And then rung by rung climb out of this stupid mess towards the light, dancing shoes strewn over shoulders a heart to stop a war and a love that’s grown brittle from attention, from trying.