For each of us who do not, will not and should not fit the constraints of any box placed upon or around us for our persons are far too multifaceted

we do not seem
to fold neatly
into those portraits
which you paint of us
this frame too often small
that pigment so less than vivid
seeming to crack and fade
at first application

we do not juxtapose
squarely against
the prefabricated image
which is held of us
we are not your calf of gold
to be foisted upon the altar
as an affront to the face
of god and deemed righteous

we are simply
we are writers
of revolutionary insight
we are failures
false hearts
false prophets
of our own penmanship
whose bent of diction
calls us to task
as we falter in acceptance
of our own mere mortality

our own inability
to be immersed
in every aspect
of living movement

we dare only do
our John Henrik
best work
to write down
our story
your story
that history is not
a tale once told
from the jawbone
of the conqueror

we are not your
primordial moral paragon
nor golden proportion
the bearer of standards
which burden
all others arising after

nor are we the Oracle
in your misconceived Matrix
the self elected Source
of your imperfect verse
we are imperfect versions
of ourselves becoming

we are not your American Dream
of the nihilistic nuclear family
we are single parent syllables
birthing forth bastardized speech
struggling to respectably
raise the level of syllogism

we are symbols of Life, Liberty
and the pursuit of Flawless-less-ness
who shall not fashion ourselves
from the pre-sewn pattern

adjust your eyes
reorient yourself
see the quilted complexity
of we accordingly.