sad boy;
what a pathetic
ploy
this is for my attention.
all you contrive
tastelessly
always lacks concession.

every word,
and image you fake
I reject, from my
possession,
for all you are
's worth less than this
effortless expression.

you see, my natural
creativity
surmounts your ****
impression
of the beauty of my work
and my powerful
transgression.

I put the paper in the printer every day
I put the paper in the printer every way
When the ink run low
And they jam the envelope
The boss man call me up and then he say

MARIA! MARIA! THE INK RUN LOW
MARIA! MARIA! I JAM THE ENVELOPE
MARIA! MARIA! I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO
JUST PUT THE PAPER IN THE PRINTER AND THEN I PAY YOU

What is this?
Is this some cruel game and I am your pawn?
Can you move me around for your own gain?
Am I some shallow follower that is yours from dusk till dawn?
How is it that you feel justified by what you do even when it causes others pain?
You treat me like I'm less than nothing
But truly it is you and not I who is the lesser of the two
I am here for more than this
But you are nothing more than a shadow being

Part I*

It’s hot tonight,
Boiled tonight.
And I’m drunk tonight
So I scatter tonight
As opposed to
Sleeping tonight; so
Alone’d pave my way.
I speak to parchment,
And with dehydrated
Tongue.
So stack the syllables,
So ebb the songs,
And if words could be
Bricks,
I’d end the stares
And disallow
The gentle breeze,
My window;
Not quite frigid yet,
But like her breath
With a hint of ice,
If only enough,
To coerce my hair,
Specifically
The strands on the
Back of my neck.
And so, we’d shiver.

To be continued…