Is this a poem or a play?

Only sadness sates me
Only Lord Bukowski provides warmth
Mother says,
"Son, you're 38.
Isn't it time you thought about community college again?"
No, I won't do it.
I'll resist violently.
"Your society's a joke, Mother dear.
Slavedrones workin' for queen bee Illuminati."
"But, son — "
"No buts, dead ends, or compromises!"
I remove my Starbucks apron
"I see through your sik society's transparent plan
Indoctrinate young pupils into a comfortable social network
Stripping them of the reality and dignity of self
Admit it, you're a false prophet
Education is a superstition."
Wha?
"You're a false prophet.
Education is a superstition."
Wha?
"You're a false prophet.
Education is a superstition."
Wha?
"You're a false prophet.
Education is a superstition."
Oh.
Grabbing my gymbag
I remove a silenced bowling pin launcher
"No! Eric Harris Junior, don't!"
"Sorry, Mom."
-The sounds of pins striking out-
-and children's laughter-
-Scene goes red-
-seein' red-
-again-