
from: trouble in the bubble jungle – diary of a punkrock poet – 11 poems 2000 to 2007
i am the cat in the box trapped in someone else’s experiment locked in someone else’s question mark but i’m clever, and i drink the poison and with my insane disdain to drink anyone's half-glass of bullshit and my magical powers of scio te ipsum i convert it to vinegar in my gut in the corner of the box i piss the acid burns a hole and i crawl out now i sharpen my teeth on real trees and i’m chewing thru random wires, inverting map legands i’m banging on drums made of duct tape and dirty jokes i declare this alley, these loose bricks, burnt newspapers this pile of ford pinto an institution, i declare it sculpture i’m blocked all downtown rush hour madness for emergency poetry yard sales i’m joining random counterculture revolutions to meet pretty girls and collect free bumper stickers i’m doing the neolithic antihero freak-show-bar-hop i’m performing human folly with freelance daredevil authority and a two-drink minimum (i was there when they invented slam dancing i know how to give and receive love) i’m washing my face with industrial strength mask remover my survival is hop-scotch thru the mainstream minefield my youth is eternal full of piss and vinegar i lost my label, my brand name, my serial number took a giant academic sized dump, flushed and it was gone i’m existing without a guild without a publisher without an em-eff-ay without a pepsi grin, a juicy ass to kiss, or a walmart handjob all these tall towers of glass standards, these glass monsters, these glass hammers looking down on me, scolding me: you can’t bend spoons with your eyeballs you can’t play piano with a baseball bat you can’t wear your hat as you please inside or outside or in-side-out you won’t make any money writing this crap don’t expect us to take you seriously bite me yours truly the cat that pissed all over your box