You Tread on Me

Can't you feel my scream through your boot?
My body convulsing, my arteries pulsing,
Against your supremacy and presumption.

Can't you hear my cough?
Muffled in a mask, ventilated into a casket,
Alone without the possibility of touch.

Can you hear me?
Or am I just a face to you, should I dance for you,
Does my nude confidence offend you and your tribe?

I am speaking,
Or are you too busy, too queasy to listen,
How long must I hear your insipid narrowness?
before I may utter more than a sputter.
Your gutter can no longer house my pride
or hinder my vibe or muffle by jibe
at your history of racing past the facts
to jerk off your own opinions.