as far back as I can remember I always wanted to be a poet,
just didn’t have the words for it.

**** Facebook people are out to get me
I can’t crack any of my “yo’ momma” jokes
I cannot land any ***** **** pictures on my friends’ walls..
and right now they’re tryin’ to ******’ make me change my name!
the alternative would be for me to scram,
but i am not a fast runner.

like a big fat wizard of wOrdZ King Kong, I’ll climb
office buildings, with a ******* each arm,
only to scream out: “Made it, Ma! Top of the world!”.
not sure why I needed to get here.
you all can see me, right?

life should be as Robert put it: “Better to be king for a night, than schmuck for a lifetime!”
I’m still waiting for that special night.
I think everyone should live like this! For that “one night”.
that would certainly make the commies smile.
they’d form a queue, hoping they’ll have another chance to a fresh night of
kingdomness.
*******!
I believe ****!

I hate to say this, but this race is getting to me.
I think I’m getting the fear.
yeah.. really! sometimes, I get the feeling that I’m gonna die right at the next curve,
and my fear pushes me to push the pedal to the metal.

you know what they say: “Death’s forty minutes away. I’ll be there in ten”.
or was it thirty?
never mind!.. I’ll be there in ten!

today, my space friend told me about the #FuckTheMan movement.
I found it to be very static..
despite the authority defying mumbo jumbo.
I told him that I’m gonna use it in one of my poems and
pretend that I’m smart.

I don’t think he believes (in) me anymore.
I’m lying right now.

Ha!