Baby I Scar; draft #5 (final draft more or less)

those hoodwinking evangelists
are not abuse burn victim enough
and I
am driven into thick mud under foot
days after rain
black tongues burned black talk

and who pays for this windmill whirling
piss trickling down drain pipes leaking from decades long decay
and how
do I daily wash my hands clean when it is my people
keep shitting in the shallow end
cannibals eating the hearts of others?

Maybe accident prone are we
mix of colors and chemicals in a meth lab
chipped pale red wood shavings sprinkle cast shadow off cabin's far corner
funneled by leaky weather rainvomit onto woods green turned to brown:
rinsed away like so many earthly crimes.

Needle can I lick taste the bitter drugs as they rush through your veins
as I fall backward in a passed out slumber backwater night walk?

this machine steals thoughts and body functions,
has an inside deal on 22nd century eyeglasses,
sees in 3-d,
and though my skin may not burn
I scar baby I scar.

Baby I Scar; draft #4

those hoodwinking evangelists
are not abused burned victim enough
and I have been driven into the thick mud under foot
days after the rain
black tongues with burned black talk.

and who pays for this whirlpool windmill
piss trickling down drain pipes leaking from decades long decay
and how
do I daily wash my hands clean when it is my people
keep shitting in the shallow end
or cannibals eating the hearts of others?

we are one and maybe accident prone are we,
a mix of colors and chemicals in a meth lab
chipped pale red wood shavings sprinkle cast shadow off cabin's far corner
and funneled by leaky weather rain vomit on woods green turned to brown:
rinsed away like so many earthly crimes.

Needle can I lick taste the bitter drugs as they rush through your veins
as I fall backward in a passed out slumber backwater night walk?

I will fail long before or after celebrity's made famous
for dodging questions land jawbone first onto razor sharp exit ramps
or a country made famous for lack of luck
lands dismal fate laid low
(sometimes in mind by us and everyone).

this machine stealing thoughts and body functions
has an inside deal on 22nd century eyeglasses.
It sees in 3-d,
and though my skin may not burn
I scar baby I scar.

Baby I Scar; draft #3

this one goes out to all the
hoodwinking evangelists who think
that I am not abused assaulted burned victimized
sexy or smart enough
that I haven't been driven into the thick mud under my foot
a day after the rain
black tongues with burned black talk

do I not pay taxes to this great whirlpool windmill
piss trickling down drain pipes leaking from decades long decay
and how
do I daily wash my hands clean when my people keep shitting in the shallow
end or on the news, cannibals eating the hearts out of others.

we are one and one are we, being that the verb goes singular to plural;
that's just how grammar works, maybe accident prone does fate
mix of chemicals and colors in a meth lab
chipped pale red wood shavings cast sprinkled shadows off the cabin's far corner
and funneled by leaky weather rain vomiting on forest green turned to brown:
rinsed away like so many earthly crimes.

Needle can I lick taste the bitter drugs before they rush through your veins
before I fall backward in a passed out slumber backwater night walk?

not dead I still have an opinion on what it must be like to die
I will fail long before or after celebrity's made famous
for dodging questions land jawbone first onto razor sharp exit ramps
or a country made famous for lack of luck
lands dismal fate laid low
(sometimes in mind by us and everyone).

And aren't I complicit in this machine
stealing thoughts and body functions
takes and doesn't give back leaves only lacking:
they have an inside deal on 22nd century eyeglasses.
they see in 3-d.

My skin may not burn but I scar baby I scar.

Baby I Scar; Draft #2

this one goes out to all the
hoodwinking evangelists who think
that I am not poor enough
abused rich crazy popular
assaulted burned victimized
whipped condemned sexy or smart enough
that I haven't been driven into the thick mud under my foot
a day after the rains
black tongues with burned black talk

do I not pay taxes to this great whirlpool windmill
feeding the rich blaming the poor
piss trickling down drain pipes leaking from decades long decay
and how
do I daily wash my hands clean when my people my color
my culture keep shitting in the shallow end
on the daily news acting like cannibals eating the hearts out of others

we are one and one are we, being that the verb goes singular to plural;
that's just how grammar works, maybe accident prone is fate's
mix of chemicals and colors in a meth lab
chipped pale red wood shavings cast sprinkled shadows in the cabin's far corner:
and funneled by leaky weather rain vomiting on forest green turned to brown
and rinsed away like so many earthly crimes.

Needle can I lick taste the bitter drugs before they rush through your veins
before I fall backward in a passed out slumber backwater night walk?

not dead I still have an opinion on what it must be like to die
I will fail long before and long after some celebrity is made famous
for dodging a question or a country is made famous for its lack of luck
dismal fate laid low sometimes in mind by us and everyone

And aren't I complicit in this machine as it
steals thoughts and body functions
takes or doesn't give back
leaves only lacking:
they have an inside deal on 22nd century eyeglasses.
they see in 3-d.

My skin may not burn but I scar baby I scar.

Baby I Scar; Draft #1 (from Brainstorm #2)

This one goes out to all the people
who think that I have nothing meaningful to say:
that I am not poor enough
abused rich crazy popular enough
assaulted burned victimized enough
whipped condemned smart enough
or that I haven't been stepped on enough or
that I've done too little or none at all of my own stepping

do I not pay taxes to this great whirlpool windmill of hate and death and hypocrisy
and feed the rich blame the poor
and how can my hands wash clean when daily it is my people my color my culture shitting in the shallow end
acting like cannibals eating each others hearts on the daily news?

I can think and love and ache as much as anyone else who has felt the wounds of long recovery or the woes of quick stricken fear,

we are one and one are we, being the verb goes singular to plural
but that's just how grammar works, maybe accident prone is fate's
mix of chemicals and colors in a Meth lab.

needle can I lick taste the bitter drugs before they rush through your veins
before I fall backward in a passed out slumber backwater night walk.

My head never stops thinking
I lay awake in bed
best memories and past nightmares
never let go heart racing for the lives not going up to the top of the cup
these diminished hopes and lost expectations.

Not dead I still have an opinion on what it must be like to die
Not killing but still have an opinion on murder
the spiral of deprecation it leads us on
and I will fail long before and long after a celebrity is made famous
for dodging a question or a country is made famous for its lack of luck
dismal fate laid low sometimes in mind by us and everyone.

And don't I too help pay aren't I complicit in this machine that keeps my brothers and sisters down that steals and takes that doesn't look back,
having some sort of inside deal on 22nd century eyeglasses.
They see in 3-d.

My skin may not burn but I scar baby I scar.