English class

oh hey teacher no i’m no poet

         no need to give me your Conklin pen

i’m just a kid from down the nickel loud mouth

     skidded knees cigarette boozer

         blood upon her sleeve

reveler of sunsets  procrastinator in the dawn

i am the honey of her thighs

       and the pulsing bang bang of his gun

    but hey psssst mister i ain’t no poet

bawdy as all hell quiet when i need to be

      if some angel fell in hell

i’ll go fetch em’  Darla Hood impersonator   feeler of the waste

      inside their eyes corny graffiti kids

         longing for the it apps to arrive

liquor store dwelling social services auditor

      of her majesty the street  but mister

i assure you mister i ain’t no poet

     AC/DC cranker upper Curtis Mayfield fuck play it louder

poker player chopper rider star watcher  little fighter

     hey man call me foolish   lady riff raff   heart on fire

          but hey seriously   i am what He says i am

            so yeah mac i ain’t no poet

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