Evening

You may laugh at mine this parody

but I've always been fond of disparity

I've ran with such severity,

My only garb, temerity

scheming, my only gear, celerity

Pushing toward the uneven,

Even if the odds is seeming, Sis-y-phean

Scarcity my raison d’être

Scared to dream of ceterus paribus

Because to believe the size of the migraine and the Excedrin are parallel is perilous

Fairness is but a metanarrative

Communist economist don't speak in pairs of us

Just as you prepare to bust your hypothesis clouds observance

Obfuscates the obvious

and unnerves the Central Nervous

to couch my dreams and serve as Ottoman

Footnote and footrest are pyrite empires measure of opulence

but so obstinate my faith in all things equal

took a zero-sum game and made unity the easel

Postulate that all of it will be made equal in sequel

Have been muted from prequel

The grooves from my needle

Are depression I've made for people's expressions

To settle and veteran's to call fetal homestead

So as to level the playing field

What an oddity on an evening such as this?

One chooses autonomy, twice meaning, even though there's much at risk