Opportunity and knowledge is a privilege,
one that is the inheritance passed
from the 1800s smoking pipe
of a second son calling home,
to the blind Maseratis trailing fire down the back alleys.
Tickets and lawyers can be bought,
but at the expense of the whole system
careening into the unknown
as the absurd wishes of privileges seeing privilege as unknown.
Heavily tinted black windows
only show a silver of reality between the sleek doors
sliding together like pieces of paper,
thoughts and prayers like the grape-smelling vape
dissipating into the arms of a weeping statue.
On the streets they burn
Seashells of shores, marked with red tape
Youth, pleasure, and dancing in the moonlight glow
of palaces of empty halls, rising from the underbelly
metal and smoke, choking the pecking pigeons,
Dumped into the dark corridors of rigid coastlines stained black
Just so privilege seeing privilege as unknown;
If I had hot rich kid money,
The candied lanes of their imagination,
Drowning and radium rotted jaws
Mine collapses and poisoned drinking water
Plastic, plastic, and plastic,
Would burst into flames