Suicide Call
Talking to the Zombie Poet in Brooklyn
He never sleeps
Only syllables and sounds sail by his side
His eyes folded with
Forget Me Now lines
His body sagging
Buckled to the weight of his soul
"Wanna Coffee?"
He doesn't register
His mind is draped in onomatopoeia
And his liver pickled for an early grave
Still there's something YESTERDAY
About him
A dapper richness
A charm
Something rare
You can't find on Craig's List
Or the deli on Bleecker
His mind rapes the stillness of the night
Deconstructs you.
Piercing your armour with lyrical grandeur
Fucking your blanket security and
Pissing on your dreams of big house, big car, big life .
What sacrilege to want material success
How crass so throwaway to imagine FAME
And the sweet smell of sex.
He'll blow you easy by striving the breeze
And etching the trees
Stamping the leaves of Poetry on Nikki's French panties.
Talking to the Zombie Poet in Brooklyn
He never sleeps
Only syllables and sounds sail by his side
His eyes folded with
Forget Me Now lines
His body sagging
Buckled to the weight of his soul
"Wanna Coffee?"
He doesn't register
His mind is draped in onomatopoeia
And his liver pickled for an early grave
Still there's something YESTERDAY
About him
A dapper richness
A charm
Something rare
You can't find on Craig's List
Or the deli on Bleecker
His mind rapes the stillness of the night
Deconstructs you.
Piercing your armour with lyrical grandeur
Fucking your blanket security and
Pissing on your dreams of big house, big car, big life .
What sacrilege to want material success
How crass so throwaway to imagine FAME
And the sweet smell of sex.
He'll blow you easy by striving the breeze
And etching the trees
Stamping the leaves of Poetry on Nikki's French panties.
