—to one's own company
(original working title: the music you play)
are these leaves pure green tea,
to steep in a cup
designed so quaintly?
i know a type of
music, but not all things
jazzy
because there
could be drill rap music
which they—call—
classy
it's not a pretty picture
anymore for a degenerate
generation,
i think transnationalism
somehow creates a
nation
i just hope we don't fall
victim to this wake of
insanity—
to be foisted, with gradual
influence—to one's own
company—