JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SAFE TO DO POETRY AGAIN

Folder: 
DUSTY CRUSTIES

 

I saw the best minds of my generation 

destroyed by blandness

MTV spoken word tour; sewn up vaginas;

dismembered penises, poetry slams

featuring dickless, cuntless verse

spewed by genderless eunuchs

all in the name of advancing pop culture

for lamebrained, gutless pansies

trying to rap out poems

to the underage audiences

running around pretending it’s deep

yeah, Henry Rollins,

16 year olds think you’re deep

but we falsify the nature of the beast

mindless infidels, staggering drunks

The feasts that were promise 

were never delivered by corporate—

yes, corporate MTV execs

pathetically trying to be hip

& failing miserably in the effort;

Timid poets pointing a finger at me

while I raise the finger at them;

All the yuppified, glorified culture

Jim Morrison wannabees and white boys

trying to rap like wiggas

without a clue about riddum

and the ever so sensitive—

ever so sensitive political correctness;

worrying about Bill and Hillary

or trying to eliminate sexuality

It’s all a crock of shit to me

Don’t have an alcoholic drink

make it water with a lemon twist

Try to create a giant rubber room

out of this glorious planet

so our Volvo’s and Saabs

can run freely in peaced

hide inside petty rhetoric

allow tv producers to think for us—

can’t actually expect us

to actually think for ourselves

figure out how not to offend

while pretending to be radical poets

those people cutting into my scheme;

but don’t think I don’t know it

only I admit it up front

that it’s 90% art, 10% pretense

or maybe the other way around

I just cling to my insanity

but it slips through my fingers

It, like sand beaches, is eroding

I am falling prey to the plague

but I try not to be defeated

try not to be like everyone else

It is a desperate, lonely plight

but not without its charms

as I keep the candle lit

and burn passionately through the night

determined to escape the fate

of albatrosses & other fallen angels

 

5-7-95

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was one of my most prominent spoken word poems from the mid to late 90s when I used to do the coffeeshops, bookstores and jazz bars.  There is an additional backstory that I may tell you someday down the line.  It was also the title poem of my second self published chapbook in 1999.

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Stephen's picture

Reminds me of beatnik poetry. (Compliment)

Stephen

georgeschaefer's picture

I used to wear the Ginsberg

I used to wear the Ginsberg influence on my sleeve

eleven_eleven's picture

This is cool. Quite a

This is cool. Quite a different style from how you write now. I like the unexpected word choices

georgeschaefer's picture

thank you. glad you enjoyed

thank you. glad you enjoyed it