Even before I left, I knew it wasn’t a closed cage. 

Indulging college scholars, who studied and studied and still fell 

on the wrong page. About Chicago. Drinking the Kool-aid.

As out of state media translates our faces,

they push my people in the dirt like the arc on their feet. 

Even after what seems like an eternal curb stomp, 

we are still expected to excrete.