Its poppy season again #itslit,
look at US, we are all poppies here
ain’t we beautiful?
Yeah but look at them over there tho’, those
them half-breed poppies, Cali-prickly poppies
with that prickly poppy privilege, they think they
better than us, or them quarter ones too,
they ain’t real poppies! They got that soft skin,
they wilt super easy in the sun, they get bought
up real quick repotted in the house,
they don’t know the struggle.
It’s poppy season again, #itslit,
We are all poppies here, look at
US ain’t we beautiful?
But we mixed, half prickly poppy of
Northern Europe. I can pass man.
No one knows what I am, I can blend in, I can ignore
All that shit around me. I got more access man.
When I look at myself I don’t see color. They don’t like
us anyways. I’m better
Thanna ol’ regular Cali poppy.
But did you see how farmer-john last week ripped one of
US out the ground for no damn reason, it was brutal, rolled his roots
Around his index finger and yanked him out of his socket,
stepped on him, dragged him around, then used a scythe
to cut his stamens off, man that poppy was mixed—naw!
he was regular Cali poppy. He don’t count. He count. Farmer-
john didn’t know the difference, didn’t matter to him at the
end of the day. To him we all look the same.