I dance with their rules,
give them a spin just long enough
to get by.
To earn a buck,
I’ll do what they say.
But stay too long,
and you’re infiltrated.
You start thinking in khaki.
Your polo shirt collar
gets ’round your mind.
My mind is me.
There are worlds in there,
worlds that sing–
call and response–
with everything I see.
So I just keep seeing.
Like a turtle,
I carry my home with me–
only inside.