A Forbidden Anticlimax
- Zero Or Prologue -
The following is not a poem or a play, it’s not a song or a prayer. It is my thoughts organized in short lines atop of each other, and grouped in knots of four.
- I -
Take off the judge robes, or keep them on
I am not excited that I’m going home
Perhaps it’s work, or school, maybe
Or a society that keeps a close eye on me
- III -
I am a traitor
Or too cocky and crooked
For not missing a place
And finding comfort elsewhere
- III -
Luckily, I don’t see things that way
Where I lay my head is home
What is left of Jordan,
Anyway?

<p>I</p>
</p>
</p>
<p>You are just still high on NY with your exploratory needs not satisifed</p>
<p>II</p>
<p>Luckily you don’t feel this way, and why would anyone?</p>
<p>III</p>
<p>Now that there is no shawerma, I don’t know
<p>Other than famliy, friends and good times, you still have Karak