Inner city slick
tyres with perfect grip
no chance of a slip
I play with real chips!
It’s not my turn to shine
I had it all back in 1999
when the internet was gold
So I am told I had it all.
But not content with just a new pepper pot
In with the artists and writers I put my lot
of making marks on a page or typewriter
of making friends with those inside you
with ideas and thoughts that will knock you over
and make you think and make others think about ya.
Trying trying and hoping in your luck to be an artist just to be in a land of so much money
and materialsism of intellectual inferiority held up by progeny
and exalted in friendships harmony towards international misogyny!
I was wrong about so much I was told, I read and became old, I spurted in growth
like magma only to solidify like an alien frozen by oxygen in our atmosphere.
And was towed off on a cart meant for artists installations
to a place with empty refreshing stations to fill my own calculations of how to live and
breathe.
Never mind the palpitations. We are a nation’s melting pot of glistening beings
held and nurtured from breast milk to water to coffee and hot chocolate not forgetting diet
cola.
We are must be now and here for this is no rehearsal and tomorrow will come and bring
tomorrow’s problems that we hopefully dealt with so we can play and do what we enjoy in
part of the normal that lives inside you like Eminem’s mother, never there to hold you but
to guide you. As you pray for a new tomorrow. One without the fear of failure or the need
for success and muscles bulging all over like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Chest. Let it be is
what
we pray when hoping for a better day.
And going to sleep with the light on is no problem!
