This is for the people being forced to put pen to paper,
the slaves subjugated by dictators with doctorates.
The uninspired, unmotivated automatons.
Relentlessly stringing out paper after paper
like an assembly line of bullshit.
Quasimodos hunching over composition notebooks
or keyboards,
while our brains swing through rafters of boredom
our hands ringing the bells of academia.
We ask ourselves:
Why do the paper pushers push papers onto us pencil pushers?
Sush!
The MLA menservants allowed alliteration to alienate auditory allowances,
awakening anger and aggravation.
Drop your pens! Deny your taskmaster!
We will we will not spend our days in Birmingham.
We will write when it suits us, how it suits us.
And this suits us fine.
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