This is a poem about multimodality
penned and performed as a rap but it actually
acts as a form of response to academy
after confirming I'm apt in the matter:
Write it all out or I spit it in verse,
If I'm given a choice I'd rather the ladder
but it's mostly that three-body burden
at 500 words and an MLA header.
No, I want that hand written.
That Bezemer, Kress and demand different
opinion, expression to pan vision
so everything isn't as bland.
And I should mention to pardon me;
Jargon is all I can fit into margins of
articles, documents, all of these
tardy a**ignments so sorry but
part of me can't see the point.
Now switch the medium, lanes over median,
my brain immediately changes the context
and what “a sign” says is you and I see the
same thing with different eyes, so that must be what design is.
Trying to mix color in the cla**room common.
We should act Othello out and really feel the drama.
Trying to press pause instead of using a comma.
Lately I've been feeling like showing up in pajamas
but shouts to Yancey, progression in another key
and shouts to Selfe, I'm growing in aurality
and thank you George, my pupils just adjusted to the food.
They let me eat, I feed upon their thoughts like a feast.
And I have to say, I would invite you all to dinner
but you probably have to study notes with barely any pictures
and I have a reading, nonetheless, I just remembered.
If we wanna get out this box it's best to first look inwards/in words.