Take me out of the game?
I had a dream; the sun was too bright.
I was assigned to write a poem extolling it.
I don’t know why. Am I ever obligated?
With art?

Please take the edge off.
My poem will warn you
not to look up too boldly.
Be careful until Noon
when you can look around
with impunity.

I’m required to write a poem
about how beautiful the outsides are
today without demonstrating
wretched insides.

Please take the edge off.
Allow ounces of lovingkindness
being dragged from insides
to parade around
with the hipster sun bulls.