Can you cut through the scramble, can you focus
on your feet for just a
slight slant to the right regain your balance can you
matador those zip ties, wash through the
slingshot selfie stick revolution
with a bandana tied over the bottom
portion of your face, you haven't earned
any of this and I refuse to pay until
there are some changes made to the cage
Can you probe with your blunt antennae
until you find a crack in the plaster
Can you duck beneath the right cross
and somersault the bondage clap
Can you carry those blows within you
and not let their weight drag you down
Can you straddle the fence and end up
ass over tits on the right side of history
Not necessarily the winning side
Can you cover your tracks and leap
like a spider across the gap
Can you convince them you’re not
just a scared, beaten boy
a false idol of crazed clay
Can you rattle your false teeth like dice
and shutter the milk booth without
spilling a drop, can you present
a compelling case for either your guilt
or your innocence, can you stretch your legs
so wide you split your slacks and ride
that cleaver like a saddle
Can you make the bellhops carry you from the
train on their shoulders
Can you go trawling for silverfish
with your hairnet
Can you lower your lids kind and gentle as a cow
Can you dynamite that chimney with
your shy, harmless smile
Can you line the inside of your mask
with tacks
Can you stuff newspaper inside
the crown to make it fit
Can you perp walk the architect, frog march
the facilitators, learn to fucking spell
even when the rain drips in to smudge your words,
even when the ash blows sideways
Can you accept the fact that
when it comes down to it,
all they really care about is
Can you win
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