D.I.Y.

I trust the city will do me no harm
I trust your hands strike like mine
I blame my disillusions if it doesn't leak art
When the 'do it yourself' is for someone else

I saw myself walking down Fordham road
In some words I've written with a forgotten tone
And it has been stated sold as advertised
live information brought here to die

I trust the city cause there is no shell
my freedom poems will be vintage hell
Don't start your arguments just to be done
you can't celebrate your martyrdom when you're gone

Since we are all leverage
In a news channel's bed
with a news' poll distance
offering me what is best.
Don't act like you know me
You are one to obsess
with your transparent bigotry
about realms you can't posses.