Brutus-esque Brutality
Quaalude prelude to a night not worth recalling
At me for not picking it up the first fifty fucking times
I am static, moving so fast I look like nothing, and then I am
I am not in this state, in this house, in this body, in this video
I don’t like gangs, that’s why I don’t like the police
always flashing their colors at me; the red and blue
When I run a felony across a state or two
I put on a license plate frame that says BLUE LIVES MATTER
So right before they pull me over, they don’t
And that’s a poem written for its audience that hasn’t realized it
Like all these young adult novels written by far from young adults
Obsessed with incestual lust and abuse of their characters
Both the type and the type that has dialogue
It is literary pedophilia and I’m just saying that
In the hopes that will piss off the right person
And they will come to my door at 4:45 AM with a Colt 45
And they will make me a gentle legend, a better Lennon
Horror Sleaze Trash 