free verse poetry
1 min
The Modern Confessionary
Anna Burt
I call the witness the admissions officers
The professors
The administrators
The 20 bucks an hour just now graduates
Tell me about the truth
Tell me about the lies
Tell me about the human nature that bares its desperation in your hands
So much of it wanders your cabinets
So much of it will never leave them
The modern confessionary is full of judgment, and little else
There is little humanity in profit
And Sally May knows little else
And you know little of her
Her who is a document, her who is in every students pocket
Swimming at the bottom of every pool on the cold winter mornings that we decide to keep our heating off on and head to the library
I call you to witness
I call you to witness this
Because no one else will.
It's an empty sort of funeral.
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