A Shotgun Does The Trick I am dying from lack of motion, Stagnation. Out there in cities There is movement and inspiration. Not here. The art gallery down the street votes republican. If you want to clear the room quick Read a Poem. They are taking down art Because the artist manipulated The american flag. I want to manipulate Corporate flags. My Poems burning them And weaving it back again with words. And we will be A sovreign Poetic nation. Maybe I'm just dreamin' But I still believe in dreams. Nice guys finish last, I'm a guinea pig To that theory. I'm a livin' example In the flesh. I still persist Middle finger in the air To darwinistic systems. Don't swim with sharks, Don't have the ambition. Today I watched a documentary About another writer That allegedly shot himself In the head with a shotgun. They upheld mainstream views, Ignored conspiracies. To them he chose his time to go. Let his brains see the light of day. I guess a shotgun does the trick. And I'm thinkin' even if he did Pull the trigger with his toe. Which I doubt he did. But ignore my own biases. At least he had the dignity Not to Go out Like this. A slow crawl To the grave. --Michael Grover |