modern american poet

modern american poet


i am the modern american poet
i graduated from the ivy league of the midwest
where i was taught how to use the thesaurus
and i was encouraged to use big words
to express esoteric concepts
and so i don’t really give a shit
how my art makes you feel
just as long as you think that i’m smart
because i’m so up to my
last can of tuna fish in student loans that
i’ll write anything that sells
honestly, i have no soul
but that’s ok because that may mean
that i’ll become famous someday

i am the modern american poet
i’m reppin from philly and yo
if you aint from around my way
and you don’t know how to
use yo to carry on a conversation
then you ain’t my people and yes,
i write about racism, sure
i mock your divisionist tendencies
while ironically perpetuating them
by changing my vocabulary
but i don’t really give a shit
how my art makes you feel
unless you’re exactly like me
in which case just nod your head
and show me some love because
i’m so up to my eminem album
trying to stay true to the new
hip hop poetic culture that
i’ll write anything just to
increase my street cred
honestly, i have no soul
but somehow the lack of color in my skin
doesn’t stop me from pretending

i am the modern american poet
and don’t really care where you’re from or
from where you graduated because
right now i’m like way into death
and dying and blood and
i don’t really give a shit
how my art makes you feel
because the thought of death’s icy grip
closing in on my existence right now
is way cooler than anything else and
is kinda getting me off so that
i’m so up to my black gothic attire
in angst right now that
i cant even begin to try to reach you
honestly i have no soul
and even if i did, i’d probably
sell it to the devil

i am the modern american poet
have you met my ex boyfriend who
i broke up with three years ago?
how is he? did he mention me?
did he look sad? does he miss me?
despite the tears of agony,
i think i’ll write something about
the irony of hating yet loving someone so much
i really don’t give a shit
how my art makes you feel
as long as you pass me that cover up
i need to powder over my life blemish
i’m so up to my muscle t-shirt in identity crisis
that i’ll write anything that gives me a face
honestly i have no soul
and if i did, i’d rip it out
for one more romp with my ex

i am the modern american poet
SEX SEX SEX SEX
CLITORIS PeNis, clitoris, PENIS
CUNT SEX VAGINA PUSSY
i don’t give a pussy lick of a shit
how my art makes you feel
just as long as my man hating friends
admit to still needing dick
just because.
PENIS CUNT SEX FUCK
i’m so up to my dyke duds
in rage right now that
i can’t talk to anyone who has a penis
so i’m sorry if i can’t relate to you
honestly, i have no soul
because i believe soul is a myth
spread by men to keep the sisters down
feminist clit sex
excuse my tourrettes

i am the modern american poet
i’ve tried so god damned hard
not to become cliché, and
look at me
please, anyone
just look at me

copyright JANEisnotplain 10.06