big enough to feel the stress not small enough to escape notice not blank enough to fill in the gaps not smart enough to earn the gran mal treatise of world affairs not shit enough to consider all angles not real enough to need to be made not better enough to dance on endlessly not hype enough to be on the street and hang with a forty by abdu’s not quick enough to make it through the cracks not beat enough to read my namesake up on the wall not soft enough for two minutes against the clock not bright enough to lay on the sidewalk and curl into homelessness not political enough to feel the sun not hurried enough to make it matter not hot enough to feel the breeze not feather enough to be looking through windows not straight enough to cut through the bullshit not heavy enough to keep it.