My Life
(as a Late Night Talk Show)
Sinister, move over, me and Conan have this one.
I have guests show up all the time,
nick named these two

‘Dep and Den’
(formerly Depravity and Denigration)
The last time we had them on
they left everyone’s mouths agape
like cheap creaky coffins.

My laugh
(as an other-worldy cackle)
that scales the backs
of the wicked and the political
scathing them with red chalk board scribbles,
and praying that their God will take them quick,
they will see my ugly face like a blimp,
empty of empathy because
nobody gives a shit about rich white suits,
least of all a manic, destitute poet.

My smite
(as an unending self-played joke)
the product of which is chopped up into dime bags,
given to street-wise hipsters in lieu of
real truth, my hackneyed projections like
low housing sand castles that all smell of burned smoke.

My music
(as war call anthem for revolutions without a cause)
that lures the ugly and wicked into taking
back the dance floors and public spaces like book stores
believing they have something, finally to fucking fight for,
and pirouette into innuendo for days on the high of not giving a shit.

My idea
(of a good time)
is breaking everything sacred into sacrament
and leaving the rest for the next hungry word saint.

What are you into?