Real world
enjoys the deep red (Hitchcock Block)
sees a friend below the balcony and begs to not be seen in return
"Please just keep on walking..."
Real life
observes slowly
laughs to self
writes it all down
Real life backs down,
shoots and kills the old stubborn horse
and then feels guilty for having rode it for so long
Real life loses
the argument
apologizes later
feels weak
smiles at unattractive strangers
won't look the cute ones in the eye
Real world steals
poems from paintings
starves artists and writers
murders real musicians
wakes me up, crying
with no explanation
Real air
poisons food
chokes newborn lungs
cuts the sunset short
(Real air is dust)
Real world
turns on corruption
pulls lovers apart
If you ask me where I'm from
I won't say here
And if you ask me where I live
I won't say here
I am from Somewhere Else
I came here to work and to die
Real world eats me alive
my innocence and emotions
in this society are nothing
my tears run dry and nothing
soothes my big ideas
Listening to me won't get you far here
in a world where poets have adapted
to a language subliminal in order to hold an audience
No one recognizes all we do
and it doesn't matter
Real life, Real world has no room
for Real credit
Maybe I will paint it for you
in oil or in acrylic
a croud of empty pockets jerking off to their own nondescript voices
Where is my Black Sparrow hiding?
And so we conclude the real world is too full of shit
to be bothered
to pay the minstrels and musicians
to publish poetry that matters
to protect the farms that feed us
the world we know has no room
nor time for quality right now
And so it is the hearts
of individuals
I am after
One by one I will pierce them with my broken arrows
and repeat as needed
Free of charge, I gift a piece of my curse
each time
free
