I could give you an emotional catharsis cavorting a chorus between pleasure in my prose
and upheld distortions in the pain of the throws of each moment I've held up to my nose
to tell if I can still recall it fresh, the scent of the locker room ribbings and hometown chiding's
"This is who you must be"
Make you come to grips with the absurdity of having to compete for attention to voice in a craft that
is by all intents and purposes subjective
much as all success is subjective
much as all states of mind are subjective
much as I tried to deflect this disconnect, correlation not implying causation
Work not determining happiness
Pain not conducive to Catharsis.
Instead, let's make em all laugh
Because it's already stacked into a sick joke
Speaking truth to power self congratulators talk about field workers like a **** case study
A case study my grandparents walking with Cesar Chavez wrote pages for with their backs
I don't want to hear more trustafarian folks tell me about the struggles of my people
I want poor folks to tell me how full of **** I am
I want to shout out truth bombs to a crowd that doesn't want to hear it
I want be a contrarian to remind people that they're alive
I want to rap battle with the parishioner as he lays another childhood friend into the coffin
Car Crash, Car Crash, Leukemia, Car Crash, always take my golden ones, have another road rash
You gave me thoughts of god distraught I locked myself atop the lofts compelled to pressure, mom and pops have got the answer down on lock, I'll hail thee mary full of grace til I can't feel another trace, the news that I was read today was sad so I can pray the shame away, get *****, take the blame away, get *****, touch myself again to make me feel like I'm a man, but I don't know what that should mean; if I'm a man am I unclean? ***** Mexican poor boy, embrace that ****, and crack a smile. Depression is a myth you see, and god is real so follow me. You have a healthy fear in you, and this is good for this is true, the fear of god, the fear of love, the fear of judgment from above, and fear to let yourself be heard, you couldn't say a single word, the fear of if she'd ever know, the fear to let your demons go, the fear of hope, the fear of help, I think you even fear yourself.
"Parce domine Parce Populo tuo, ne in aeternum irascaris no bis"
Oh lord please let me be misunderstood, please let my illumination and voice go beyond the choir
I don't need a bunch of yes men in my life
I don't need people who've never tasted death, tasted pills uncounted and unmarked
Never woken up groggy to the feeling of "thank you what forces may be, I am still alive"
I don't need to preach to the choir.