This is a 90s rap about belonging.
I always slept for the same amount of time,
because before that I never slept at all.
My parents said I had to lie in bed
And catch the sleeps as they fall.
A sleep is like a sheep but asleep,
and if I didn’t catch them they would... surely die!
But when the sun came up then the sleeps would speak,
“We’re all saved now, goodbye!”
When I told kids at school they just laughed at me,
only a fool would believe that tale about sleep!
You gotta keep yo head to the ground, homie,
You gotta keep yo head to the grouuuund
So it was the 90s, these guys said homie, whatever,
We all said things that now sound less than clever.
I just wanted to feel like a part of the group,
So me and my new homies stayed up the night through.
The next night in bed I dreamed of the cliff
But there were no sleeps there, and I keep thinking if
There was no one to save them, they’re all dead and gone
I’ll never be forgiven for the murder I’ve done
I just wanted to belong,
I just wanted to belong.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
games
i still remember your tall corduroy walk
your yawning laughs at after thoughts
god if you'd only wear your acid wash
we could go back to where we left off
because in the meantime, i am worn out by non-love. threadbare, a little, stripped. and probably still willfully nihilistic, because it means there's less to get over.
but oh, her.
with perfect teeth and torso
quick wit attractive more so.
i simply must
forget her magazine's made honest, forward,
and my tyrant heart's made chased and awkward
yet i'm so unappealed by the un-games that last night i dreamed we were the last two living. killer machines were on our cavestep, but you were enigmatically aloof. i rolled you a cigarette and we watched TV nervously outdoors, you loved me but you wouldn't ever show it. oh wow, aloof dream shorty, you looked like marion cotillard.
that CHEST.
what incredible sexy fun!
i still remember your tall corduroy walk
your yawning laughs at after thoughts
god if you'd only wear your acid wash
we could go back to where we left off
because in the meantime, i am worn out by non-love. threadbare, a little, stripped. and probably still willfully nihilistic, because it means there's less to get over.
but oh, her.
with perfect teeth and torso
quick wit attractive more so.
i simply must
forget her magazine's made honest, forward,
and my tyrant heart's made chased and awkward
yet i'm so unappealed by the un-games that last night i dreamed we were the last two living. killer machines were on our cavestep, but you were enigmatically aloof. i rolled you a cigarette and we watched TV nervously outdoors, you loved me but you wouldn't ever show it. oh wow, aloof dream shorty, you looked like marion cotillard.
that CHEST.
what incredible sexy fun!
Labels:
apocalypse,
games,
lesbians,
marion cotillard,
poetry
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