a dog that chases its tail will be dizzy
not accomplishing anything
though it feels busy
can’t find its bones buried beneath the backyard tree
next to its goals
wow. that’s shitty.
if Melvil Dewey saw this, he’d be in a tizzy
but he’s dead.
and my shovel has dulled away from overuse
there’s a copious amount of my possessions
strewn about like a poltergeist had gone mad with vigor
i feel like i do when someone calls me a nigger
my emotions as tangible as a phantasm
my thoughts as straight forward as broken sarcasm
my cognition & body are skinny
& i feel as superfolous as Our Lord’s daily bread
some actions are better left undone words left unsaid scabs left unscratched crimson tears better left unbled
in this technicolor climate with city lights that blind so massive
an insidious canopy, puppeteering the masses with translucent threads made of impassiveness
I’m just another unorthodox soul sending smokescreen signals throughout the land
telling whomever listens that I’m worth a good goddamn
to flaunt one’s irregular imperfections so boldly is considered by many to be the work of dark magic
isn’t it tragic? for oppression to be so prominent without any mention of pragmatics?
I’ll keep growing into a galactic primadonna
pirouetting through vibrant nebulae
psych’o’delic wisps of cosmic slop swirling around my ankles
constellations forming from the curls of my fro’
dark matter fluff creating intergalactic diamonds in the rough
Yes I’m made of all of this and more, interestingly enough.
The Banished Ones vs The Aristocratics. I wonder, I wonder, who’s actions are truly more dramatic..?
A message to a jaded vain prick
doesn’t matter what I say because here’s what I predict:
you’ll refuse to read between the lines, throw out context &
just talk about the juicy byline & combine what was said
into the guidelines to fit the confines
of this paperthin narrative that’s been inscribed
because not getting attention is just not a graspable concept
for someone so desperately trying to be characterized
as a victim
everyone’s out to “get you” in this system
I’m quite sure this fits a symptom
but here’s the twist in this depiction:
No one gives a fuck about inconsequential fabrications Be yourself, not a delusional imitation
you’ll probably even think this post is about you don’t you?
i’m not trying to condescend but this comes down to common sense
the only way to transcend
is to get right within
if I don’t think about the fact that I’m in solitary
pretend to not see hellfire in the skies
ignore the accusations of heresy
to say otherwise would be blasphemy ‘cuz this is the best day of my life
if i ignore that i feel half as free as before
flipping through several volumes of dictionaries in desperation
to find a way to define the deep down dark icky leaking & splashing about inside
blurring the world upsidedown, spinning the wrong way ’round
feels like a bad case indigestion at the very least.