Huck, the drunk, sits across from me sipping his tea

Huck, the self admitted fool who has helped raise a child that wasn't his

Huck, with his ankle bracelet on, reads me a poem he wrote to his mother

Huck speaks of how he can't wait to go to prison, just so he can move on with his life

Huck speaks of the weight that comes with baring the title poet

The obligation to point ten thousand fingers in the face of tyranny