I want this to be a study defined exclusively
by your unflinching sense of postcolonial rationality.
By a knowing that in science, there is only you,
and words on a page, and snakes in the psyche;
and you need to defend it all
from your own reframing of personality
as untouchable. When positionality becomes divinely untouchable,
it's then that you find the beginnings of trouble.
Of the ploughing fields of a new god,
and fair, equitable treatment reduced to rubble
and magic. Witchcraft, and tragic
excursions into what they like to call anthropology,
and what I like to call
a very noble attempt, at best, at highly enlightened savagery
whenever it does not relent
about how academia's triumph is an endless, universal victory.
(Just in case you missed it,
I am surprisingly still not convinced
that I need a PhD.)
What I need, in fact,
is a new cartographic sensuality.
A new way to express my biceps
typographically.
A new way to explain to the state, again, for the one quadrillionth time
that this is my family.
No contest;
no more questions.
Let's move onto the next session.
After all, I am now Moderator for everything:
for your gifts, for your degree scrolls,
and for every last lesson
you need me to redefine.
This Dreamtiger is also a polymath.
This Merlionsman is always figuring out how to ever more
be fully in line.
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