It’s not poetry anymore
That words been tainted
And tarnished
And left for dead
In the back of the minds
Of Kerouac and Shakespeare
It’s a new generation
With a new definition
Staking our claim
In literary history
And carving out a niche
For a new
Kind of prose
None of my shit rhymes
Or sounds pretty
I could care less
If you laugh
Or you cry
Or you doubt the shit
You were told
Was true
It’s not my intention
Please accept my apologies
In advance
I’m simply
Stating the facts
In a list of fragmented
Thoughts and images
That will eventually
Explain to you
Exactly how I see it
It’s my POV
A point
Of view
That hasn’t been censored
Or monitored
Or made to be
Politically correct
In the end
All the matters
Is that it’s mine
I created it
With the purpose
Of sharing it
For as long
As you’ll listen to it
I remember people telling me
To write about love
To tell my stories
In ways
That made people smile
I thought about it
Hell
I won’t lie
I tried it
But it was pointless
I was lying
it was obvious
And it angered me
I’d lost my audience
Before I had even
Gained a crowd
Life is filled
With ignorant bliss
Just about any channel
On your new widescreen
Can make you smile
That’s not my job
So I fired myself
And made the decision
To bake my cake
Without the frosting
I would simply observe
And relay
And let you decide
On the reaction
I don’t call it poetry
Because it isn’t
Hasn’t been
For a very long time
I left the poetry
For Hallmark cards
And English books
And when I stopped caring
About the consequences
That’s when I got decent enough
To take stage
So here I sit
Inviting you
Into my imagination
Not promising a thing
But not holding anything back
Either
And when you leave here
It won’t hurt my feelings
If you didn’t like
What you heard
Because maybe
You have a different
Point
Of view
And that’s
What makes this shit
Unique