Day 1700

…The last thing I can abide

Is a poet

Who calls themselves 

A spoken word artist 

Get fucked 

Have some guts

If you’re going to be a poet

Scream it 

Don’t coware behind redundancies 

Slash your wrists and

Spray the audience

Let them taste the iron that runs through you

Spoken word

Fuck you 

“I wear a jacket coat”

You cowards

You pretentious punks

Have some goddamn pride in the ritual

Flay yourself on the altar and give yourself to the cosmos that speak to you

And then

When someone asks you

What you do with your life


I’m a poet

And nothing less…


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