Do you know what I mean when I tell you I’m scene, I’ve been seen, not obscene, and I’m not pulled far down, like a clown, I am found, like a cloud, in the sky, in the crowd, wondering why, I’m a saint not an ain’t and I’ll put on MY paint, I won’t faint, to be quaint, and I know you will go, when I tell you to stop, it won’t show if you’re dropped, like a bomb on a nation, a very dumb situation, will not throw me out, though I pit and I pout, do you know what it’s about, I’m a man not a dog, I won’t sit when you shout, there’s the needle in this haystack, and what I mean is to payback, the sheep and the scholars, wearing cheap woven collars, I’m not waiting for you, if you’re waiting for me cause my me has been found, and she’s standing her ground, so, I preach and I scream, but do you know what I mean???
an experimental poem