Aintgotnohowhatchamacallit

[Cinizter]

(Stream of Consciousness Poem)

1993, showtime Lakers, Bulls vs. Jazz, Rodman vs. Malone,
Shakur vs. the world as we know it
in an alley of Seattle a rest in peace mural is spray-painted
for the downtown scene
God bless the new age puppets that don't know what "rock" means
a shimmer of light flashes and
we're a lifer in a maximum security prison coming to terms
with our mission on Earth, in search of a tolerant God and
a cohesive religion, trying to write our way out these bars
an inmate with a shank opens your scars, laceration POV
the blood squirts out and the city is painted red by the
recreational users with too much serotonin in their heads
car cruises by, windows rolled down listening to Foo Fighters,
the dirty journalists and truth writers, the libel that you typed up
and broadcasted to the World.
Chords progressed, days went by, you become the psycho and the
psychologist--rewriting history with a sword, misdiagnosing schizophrenics
and skateboarding through the ward, you get too attached to
your patients, you have them sign your board. All in a day's work
you open your office door and you're on stage, the crowd is enraged
you're a stand-up comedian and you're late, hecklers watched you on tape
looking for an opening, you're being booed, the walls start closing in
hello, hello you're in a place called Vertigo so you better give
them something they can feel
resist the placebo effect of another bitter pill.
You bomb and you leave the comedy club to drink your favorite drink
at the bar, you drink yourself into a coma and wake up outside
on the pavement. Notebook in hand writing about last night
saying it was part of some masterplan. I for one can't understand
your blind optimism no matter how dull or bland the lies you tell
you were born under the pop culture spell...
you aint-got-no-how-what-cha-ma-call-it.













Links:
Static-LedGenZ
When Will It Stop-Complex Thoughts