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Everybody knows no one like poets
But rappers keep at it
Like biter tigers
In spite of most likely getting shot
Poets don’t need to make rhymes
Don’t need to keep time
Either or neither
Makes no difference
For delivery
Poets don’t need to sell their mind
And guess what
They don’t need to buy nothing either right?
Let me ask you something
What?
All this fucking stuff
It’s not liminal
It’s subliminal
Get crazy on the street
Make your body tweet
Take opportunity
Live with impunity
Freshen up
Be sweet
Gallop with the horse
Reach into ravines
Run with the wind
For the true obscene
I’m not saying life is endless
Just get it on again
You can’t get nirvana
Downstairs at the bodega
You can’t grow in a strangled town
So loosen up the handles
Bring out the bengals
What I mean is U be U
Like in W
Yes
I have sung young
And handled blood toned tongs
And driven death into song
And driven song into breath
Brandished the gun
Shooting the lung
On the face
The stomach
Or the heart
Have done everyone
Much more than once
No kidding hon
No joking son
Flooding mountain
Come to the valley flood
You brung water and blood
Undertows of mud
Undertones of swallowed love
Like I swung young
Like I sung young
My mother myth
To magic sprung
From zeppelin sponge
Her red hook
Cut out
My hungry tongue
Tumbling froth
Lunge mountain
Lunge mountain down
In banks
Out of banks
Wrung the last
I could wring
From my heart trust
Done the most lust
I could
To make the sounds
Sound sung
Driving down the highway
At the break of day
I spot 3 figures
Moving a foot
In a field of stray
It was still the dark side of dawn
So hard to tell
Something funny about them
They didn’t seem okay
I stop the truck
Get my gun off the rack
Put my heels on that hard paved road
And shout hey
Well just then
The rising sun
Cracks the eastern ridge
And floods the plain
The 3 freeze a sec
In the instant light
Focusing straight my way
Like a camera click
My ocular nerves pick up these guys
Are me
Younger versions no doubt
But identical
And exactly
Yours truly
Me
Me
Me
Me
Me
Me
Whatcha looking at old man they laugh
And launch into a run
Toward me and my truck
At the waning moment
I jump back in
And hightail it off
Feeling dumb
I didn’t shoot the fucks
It’s a clone encrusted
Freak infested
Clown show on earth
All you can do
Is live by your you
Stay 30 grit
Don’t get yourself bit
And keep on sifting
The dirt
I get back home
To my house on the hill
Fuzzy and feeling used
My wife Ann asks
Where you been all night?
Fucking girls
Fucking boys
You satisfied?
Seriously Bill
Have you been
Back at that cave
Stritching around for old bones
To keep yourself young?
Yes I was
Didn’t last week
You cut yourself bad there
And drop blood in the dust?
I admitted I did
Well that wasn’t good
I told you that
100 times
A call comes in on her cell
Ann answered
As I took a swell of beer
She gets off and says
That was Joan
There’s been a kill
At Funnel Creek
Where it goes into the river
I think it’s the Browns
You want to go check?
Yeah let’s go I said
It’s a clone encrusted
Freak infested
Shit show of a world
All you can do is
Live your best you
Stay 30 grit
Don’t get yourself bit
And keep on sifting
The dirt
We get there
And sure enough
There’s been a slaughter
The Brown parents dead
And their 2 daughters
Bad shit
Don’t want to get into it
Except some people present claim
They saw me coming and going
To and from the Browns
In broad daylight
Along the road
You did this Bill
No it wasn’t me
Yes it was
They put me under arrest
And now I’m in jail without bail
My clones did this to me
My wife comes and visits me
Once a month
Says with binoculars
Good ones
On the far side of the canyon
She scopes the cave
And sees 1’s, 2’s and 3’s
Of me
Slipping out
Bivouacking down rocks
Perfectly free
Will they all be criminals?
Maybe
Maybe some will get a PHD
Not mutually exclusive
1st, 2nd or 3rd degree
It’s a clone encrusted
Freak infested
Shit show of a world
All you can do is
Live your best true
Stay 30 grit
(Spongebob)
Don’t get yourself bit
And keep on sifting
The dirt
Here’s the starting line
On your mark
Get set
Go
What the hell clowns
You all jumped the gun
Line up again
You fuck up this time
I’ll expel the bunch of you
From the competition
Don’t think I won’t
I’m used to canceling
At the drop of a pin
Okay so you ready now
On your mark
Get set
Go
Jackamo does coke
With Parker-Poo down
In Chinatown
Under the bridge
At Mr. Fong’s
Fed up rats
Grounge for scraps
In the alley
Till the sun comes up
You could use this sketch
To roll out a flick
Like high as kites
And before everyone wakes up
Let’s jack some Richard Prince
From the gallery
And flash his ass
On social media
How about a handsome ransom
From the Prince
Or maybe not
But who knows these days
What does and doesn’t play
Either I get your goose
Or you get desecrated
Some other way
Sad to say
You’ve had your day
Time to go away
Not to change the subject too quick
But in certain contexts
Love wipes you clean
Like walking in on a sex scene
You didn’t mean to find
Minds get dangerous
Especially when deranged
Poor Jackamo
Poor Parker-Poo
Jackamo drank
A whole bunch of booze
With his pap
In the divest bar
On Wall Street
Since noon
Parker-Poo
Stands knee deep
At the end of a thing
With someone dear
From here
That cat in the bag
Gets loose
Given the right mix
Of creativity
With deviance
Anything can happen
No doubt
Misery and mastery
Stick it right
Where it really hurts
Sado-Masochism
Basic Modernism 101
The buildings brighten
Out the window
What’s frightening
What really scares me
Is my shadow
I forgot I had 1
And now it really freaks me out
I woke up this morning
And I knew I was dead
Calm down okay
You still have access to money right
You don’t have to beg
In front of McDonald’s or something
Not sure about that
Helen grabbed my poor ass
Off the street
And made me her toy
In Troy
But the bitch ditched me
At least I’m not wearing a mask
In the shower
There is that
Bright and bushy tailed as ever
Where's that rat
Poet brats
The biggest leaf
Of my geranium
Has gone yellow
I’m going to nick it
Off
Alimony
Palimony
Abalone
Pox of posies
We lived like kings
Now we’re stuck at home
We got rings
In our nosies
Watch this big pharma
I will karma-lize
You guys till
You cry your beans out
Don’t think you’ll survive without me
If I’m going out
You’re coming with me
I’m the one
Who gets things done
If I take a bad turn
Burn me up
Don’t forsake me
Stash my ash in an urn
Or rake me in the dirt
Fallopian
Cantaloupe
Utopian
Antelope
Be cool
Don’t lock the door
To the bathroom
Get the loan
Disown your fam
Go on the lam
Start an Ashram
Man you go out every night
You’re like a socialite
Central Valley
Sweet raisin
Give me cauliflower
Give me sex by the hour
In Fresno
Set me up in Chico
With the freakos
I got restless toe syndrome and covid
I need to shoot my wad
At the homeless camp
Casino to bet crypto
On a big guy MMA bout
In Lodi
If we win
Me, my sis and my bros
Get gonzo billions
Looking at trillions
Criticize
I mean ostracize
Me in Sacramento
I’m scouting for water
And an otter
And my long lost
Runaway daughter
All you gay guys
Lead such great lives
As new age sages
In San Francisco
I guess you do do that
Cause someone loves you
On Sunset Strip
Of the rainbow
Watch out though
For opioids and poppers
And androids
And especially keep an eye on
Bakersfield
The lizoid cops there
Eat boys and girls
For serial killer breakfast
Wild mountain fires rage
Smell the burning sage
Turn the page in the smoke
All the leaves are brown
And the sky is gray
Nothing to see here
Hey Alcatraz
I mean San Quentin
When’s the next
Scheduled execution
But I’m not stupid
Seems like
Some fucked up shit
Maybe I do need to
Get electrocuted
I mean with no blame
Entire lives
Go up in flames
Gonna take a napa
A shot of Grappa
And sip some Grigio
Before my hair
Gets singed off
Like Smokey the Bear
On the ridge-eo
(Kurt Schittwas)
On the ridge-eo
Smoking on the ridge-eo
(I've got a mango)
(Box it up and send it away)
Truckers to Bakersfield
And truckers to the east coast
But I’m not done yet
California dreamin’
You did too much
Damage to my thought
Process to let you off
The hook like that
Fuck that
Fuck that
California
Amazin’ raisin
Gag on your swag
Gag on your oak aged
Vanilla notes
Smooth and nice
In wine and liquor
Gag on your life
Or just take it chill
Your private eyes
Know precisely
Who’s doing who
And what loads the dice
Lemme see your ID
Who’s Bugatti?
Who’s Vice?
Or I don’t know
Is there any there there
Left there?
Whole thing
Just Grand Theft Auto
Are you all fucking like
Plato?
ID
Fuck that
ID or starve
ID or starve
ID or starve
Identification
ID
Identification
Or you will starve to death
I will never see the end of this
They will
They will
Control everybody
And there's nothing I can do about it
I must sit here and weep
I must weep
Cause it's identification or starve
Cause it's identification or starve
Identification
Identification
ID
ID
ID
ID
ID or starve
You and me
ID
So I got down on my knees
And I began to pray
To say what the fuck is this?
This state is in a
State of dysfunction
On a scale of 39.5 billion
Guess what?
Like that
It don’t take much
To light the match
Facade and mirage
Love at 1st lay
Look I know the game
I’ve gone up canyon roads
Overgrown with flora
With houses perched on stilts
I’ve viewed magnificent vistas
Upon the Pacific
From private abodes
I know what counts
On the west coast is
Fidelity in sight and sound
Relationships
No way
In San Jose
Faithful in trust?
You must be kidding me
ID or starve
ID or starve
ID or starve
ID
ID
ID
ID
ID
ID
ID
ID
ID
I see
I see it
I know
I know
I can't believe it
I will never believe it
I can't believe it
I will never believe it
I will not believe
ID
You must be kidding me
(I need to see ID)
Alright so
Just play on SM replay
Your best day
Take your language lips
And ripped off looks
And crimp the opposition
On your way
To The Perfect Trip
The Perfect Trip
Take your way
On your way to The Perfect Trip
Doesn’t matter
If everyone else thinks you’re jerks
Which I think is fine
At least we like what you write
Even though none of you read
Such a prime apothegm is
Don’t read what you write
Such a Golden State
Most valuable gem
That’s all right
Don’t read anyone
Especially not Didion
She’s just a spy
In the house of love
Poor old Cali
You were once fruit of the loom
Now you’re just
Another failed dream
Hate to end it this way
So I won’t
To be continued...