[saul williams called and he wants his poetry back]

oh the banana republican refugees
confined to small corners
of cafes
sad in khaki
and cotten
all the new spring colors
fashion icons
longing for the literary
la
on their lips
they sting and burn
and read their emotions
in the monotone of
their isolation
deep from the caverns
of their cheaply furnished apartments
wanting the deep
hoping we'll weep

i weep
but only because
i am one of them.