born and raised
here
did my schooling
here
partied
and got the inspiration here
struggled and barely stood a float
here
a
new job
here...
the train of Kerouac haunts
my window in east Oakland
rushing bye
making sure I never sleep so I can take
all this
life
in
I meet people
I try to be
filled an anxious answer
to all the suffering
but I knew that saints march in
only to be victorious in heaven
and
despised on earth
my birth name
means God supports
and he does
he is often the leg
that keeps my crutch
together
long ago
I got the sickness
and
since then I've been
poor and hidden from this world now I'm lashing out
I only wanted to
be
an artist
in this world
and to
paint and
gain the
fame
that only
comes to the shit kicking
poets
of
yester year
now the long lost
Ideal of
social movements takes the hind
seat for
some
foolish race to media
glamor butterfly shots
they forsake their
character
to chase
bills that buy packaged-processed
foods
0 trans fat!
0 trans fat!
this is on all food
so fat people think
skinny is in their grasp
in there
reach for some kind of
immortal US weekly cover
the
trick
is
to believe
that someone out there
is better than God
once you buy it
you're no longer able to see
yr forehead and heart will be marked
I'm that last call
booze on Sunday
stale Monday morning
________________grave
there was this one time where the inspiration was so
profound that I got goose bumps and the air changed scents
the world was
alive
and I knew
it
it all changes
in a
beating
of blood racing
through
hearts
here
we
are
with a
car
load of belongings
not
belonging
to
anything
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