Keep it Simple Stupid
Gonna keep this one short As I'm still discovering my voice Not really an essay But I'm not really a writer, so fuck the semantics I think drums might be the greatest instrument Uncovering our tribal DNA The less said, the bigger the balls No one wants to hear my shitty shit July got a bit weird A tad obsessive Imagining New Mexican mountains From the garage in an over-55 The devil makes my voice sound queer God bless Jello Biafra Rest in peace Glen Hansard The Commitments is in my top-ten movies Glenn Branca provided the key to Citizen Binary My debut album I've worked on for the last month The chaos of Earth as well The band and our socially-medicated media Tried the Hip Hop flow, running in circles with minimal breath control Faking machismo will have to do Although I've been working out for the last month or so Haven't released in over a year, so my legs are as strong as those Californian Redwoods I still want to work at the Goodwill Outlet Is that a dream worthy and reachable That deal with God still on the table Take my platelets to help others fight the fear I hope those fucking aliens land soon And turn us all color blind Is politics still a reflection of time This is why music is superior to my whines Writing this month's musings is tougher, as I've primarily been in lyrical mode And trusting that process led to deleting mostly everything I spat onto the digital floor Not frustrated or concerned though My art was never supposed to be about my manipulated marrow Welcome LeBron and Jaylen Please stay healthy Embiid My favorite escapes are Eagle Eye with Zangaro and Reuben And The Rights to Ricky Sanchez I think cranberries and tomatoes reverse aging But I'm far from a doctor Or an impostor I'm just a raw vegan who fantasizes about cuddling with Teri Hatcher sometimes I titled this nonsense "Keep it Simple Stupid" Because that's my new mantra To live clean And free from the game The mind controls the tone of your face Can someone tattoo an X on the back of my neck to unpretentiously advertise the straight edge If I turned this essay into a song, I'd be left with nothing but an instrumental But I've realized music and poetry represent distant artistic relations Maybe one day I can conjure my inner Bobby Mcferrin or Ghostface Killah Or Vinnie Paz to better redeem that Hip Hop Gospel Is this my blue-checkmarked, veritable voice Am I really steering the ship Do my muscles even exist Has my brain been constricted Must get to twenty stanzas To appease that dumb compulsive drive Not much more to poop out from my lungs The minutes and days just don't fade the same Is there a more intelligent design Patterns bore the relative rise Just keep the reader intrigued Without drugging the feed This might have been an extra lazy attempt Whoever eyes this irrelevant jest Whatever mood baits the click I just want to be viciously dominated by a biker chick Research is overrated Rehearsals get syndicated Improvisation is often needed I really need to rewatch Parks and Recreation Don't rush the stream Just keep it simple Pennies on the eyes to dream Hairless for the reckoning