Inside a song is a longer song.
Inside the song is a stain.
Inside the stain, an older and more high falutin’ stain.
Inside the permission I need to request
is the permission I’m hoping to get.
They say you can’t do that in a mass e-mail.
But everyone knows that inside the rules
is a wink, a snort, a broken emoji.
A handwritten invitation.
But first, you have to drop
your pretty name tag into the punch.