PARDON ME!

a reply to convention

Pardon me!
Sorry for spoiling your harmony,
Putting my heart in my art like I’m Carnegie,
Finding my karma, releasing that part of me,
Poetry-archery cutting the artery,

Heart-attack stark facts, black-and-white fight clubs,
Nepotist back-rubs, socialite hot tubs,
Grubs in the apples of the golden elitist
But that how we treat this-
Play the defeatist never to see bliss
And meet your maker with a shake of a weak wrist,
Easiest option- stuck on the b-list
And drop in the grave with the shrug of a realist,

I feel this way most days, a daze of nights,
A brazen heist of the senses- Northern Lights,
Smoked up, coked up, soaked in beer and fights,
The searing heights of the hellbound urbanites,
Read me my rights and make sure they’re my Last Rites,
I’m Erysicthon, can’t fill my appetites,
I ain’t the Walrus in Harrison’s chorus,
I’m more the Skid Row hid in your Barry White’s.