Poem: Performance

This poem is designed to be performed,
It’s author is shy,
So imagine the pyrotechnics.. now.. and Now,
As I build to vitriolic climaxes,
Word rhythm all over the place,
Occasional rhyme and over effected accent, saves face,
Watch and marvel how I move around “the space”
Moving with as much air and grace, as an elehippo.
A made up thing, my own invention,
Another effort to hide my pretention,
Here I am now, holding the mic like a rapper,
Tryna look fly, tryna look dapper,
Rhymes and rhythm getting, crapper.
I make pseudo political protests,
With sharp,
Rhythmic,
Changes.

To make my point, seem so profound and sincerer,
Fact is my opinion is just a headline from yesterdays Mirror,
Or Sun, The Times or even the Metro,
A point from the 80’s if I’m feeling retro,
I start a revolution that’s already been resolved,
Solve a puzzle, long since solved,
My revolution will be televised,
It’s already gone viral,
It’s only purpose is make my ego spiral,
Out of control, my rhyme rumbles on,
Then suddenly, without provocation,
I scream out,
This is art on the edge,
Nearly 200 words in and I have said nothing,
Building up to nothing at all,
Dry ice fills the stage like I’m wired for sound,
Desperately still searching for the profound,
Now to make up for the content I lack,
A fake middle finger, and cut to black.

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