skrenth

Flying high off the strength of kickin' a old habit
Miasma fall like fabric
The old Ciabatta roll out the hat trick
Rhodes scholar boombaptist
Quantum leapin' through timelines
Fanta orange dimes
Keystone XL pipeline
When reality seeps into dreams
And you find yourself rappin' 'bout political things
It ain’t like steppin' on ants
It ain’t like steppin' on ants
If you wanna be a poet, you can’t be. You gotta know you are a poet and then
you’ve got no fucking choice
22,369 miles above sea-level and you lookin' like a bull’s-eye
Off the loose leaf, goofy
Feelin' loose as a
Rubbery, buttery, cringle, crinkled, frinky
I think of you thinking of me
Back and forth forever, let’s endorse the better
With wiggly handwriting
And even with all this room, the little piggies get to infighting
I like hiding my feelings in plain sight
In plain speaking, in plain sight
Did you see that, did you hear that?
A poet, a poets, uh, fate is by choice. You choose it. You gotta know you’re a
poet. But, you ain’t gonna get the financial rewards. You gonna get a lot of
weight laid on you. They’ll look at you as weird or something somehow.
I don’t care your style, if your hair’s long or short. Or you could get in the
academy where it’s stifled. Or you could see something new. And by seeing that
something new that’s here, that nobody sees, and you illuminate others,
then you got it made