I stand before my class struggling

For the forty-dollar word to replace

The two-dollar one

That inadvertently slipped my lips

You know –

Those words that tell

The skeptical you’ve been there

Done that

Read that and

Know that

The words that have worn smooth

My rugged road from Compton

Words that speak in a sub-text of

Silhouetted meanings

Engendering the dreaded

Compliment “articulate”

As if I could speak

Any other way

But, it appears I can

With a way of words plentiful

The two-dollar variety

Like my cheap shoes

Supporting me in the beautiful

Velvet (mom-made) dress

Of childhood

My two-dollar words

Work (happily) in poetic dungeons

Fooling no one

Hooded in simplicity

Laboring, as they do,

Under the

Trappist Creed:

Give up everything

Give up everything