Sup-prose

I huff,

I puff,

I can’t breathe,

I see that boy with no clothes,

And my arms start itching,

I see the little girl sleeping on rocks,

And my hands twitch round the clock,

The false pretenses and fake promises,

The vain speeches and congenial elites,

Make it hard for me to breathe.

I huff,

I puff,

It’s not asthma

I promise.