Non-Fiction Writing

Would You, But You Didn't I said something but you didn’t You knew you knew something when you didn’t I thought you knew but you didn’t I knew I heard it and you didn’t I knew her and I knew you didn’t but if I told you you would But I didn’t and I wouldn’t You try to stop me but I wouldn’t I said nothing but you didn’t I swallowed it all but I couldn't

I may not be the host with the most And I might be milquetoast But I’m down in the lyrical low-post Workin’ to make all foes ghost And hey - I’ve never murdered a man, But I’ve murdered the mic and I’ve murdered the stage Full fits of fury and rage ‘Cause I might get murdered today Murdered for being in somebody’s way Or murdered because life is cheap and some sicko wanted to play Life is murder, so they say So I’m trying to kill it Keepin’ your mother nervous Like a sinner at Sunday service I’m a musical marauder So you weak sheep who’re asleep: step up to the slaughter I’ll grip these rhymes like, “Luke, I am your father” Y’all shouldn’t bother Let the turn signal be my metronome Letting the thoughts loose from my dome Like - I don’t drink - it’s old And everything I think is bold And all my ink is gold So all the ladies let the pink unfold Applying heat until the beat gets cold

I want to make this a Halloween to remember Get obscene on the scene Go on a real bender A real, life ender Blood spraying like no lid on the blender Meat chunks and feet and hunks of flesh Fucking guts and mush and bloody mess Goop and guck and bits and shit And that's it: No more stress I want to chop off my arm and beat motherfuckers with it until I pass out Leave no doubt Show me a neck Let me cut it open give me a break I keep hopin’ Allow me a chance to enhance the dance Take off my pants and pull out the gats Twin pistols to squeeze Now they call me the breeze I’m a plague, a disease And I’ve come to infect you No one can protect you

1 Hey, you too cool for school fools and students caught in the fray everyday Listen there’s a lesson you’re missin’ It should be your mission to find your ignition and some ammunition for positive volition Improve your condition In addition, maybe end this endless rendition of self-imposed attrition. Let’s move in position Get used to the tradition and make it our own But you can’t think with your mouth moving and your brain in your phone Mental animals in digital cages it’s outrageous and seemingly contagious and it just might enslave us Your mind is prone to roam but you alone control the flow of thoughts in your dome And you took the time to leave home You take the time to show up And we all know our chances to blow up Let’s take some time to grow up Life’s hard enough already and no one’s giving handouts You don’t want to be the one always with your hand out There is not a soul alive other than your mother who cares how you had it planned out...

HAIKU VIOLENCE Turn your residence into residue, remains into resin, glue SILLINESS Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha I think I have lost my mind Ha, ha, ha, but naw SENSORY DETAIL Cinnamon, sugar Melting with butter and salt Gooey, sweet, sticky CAR CRASH Brakes scream and squeal loud Tires struggle to grip the road No seatbelts, no chance CLASS Creative Writing Class can be all cool sometimes Not cool other times RHYME Mission: ignition Live my life with volition Buck all tradition

When we passed the tunnel for the first time, the bright and dark menagerie of greens that drove deep into the woods, possibly forever, seemed unreal. It seemed, and it was unreal.  And set against the darkness and dreary drab of the rest of the damp woods all around, it was like a light from god bore directly through the trees and into the forest, bending like an eternal serpent, tracking along.  I almost didn’t see the tracks set into the green and viridescent vegetation, although I think they were what caught my eye first. I was so struck by the vastness and endlessness of the tunnel that I forgot the tracks were there the instant I saw them and began to wonder where this shaft in the trees leads, how long it takes to lead one there, and when it came to be. I then wondered aloud how I never noticed it at all before in all my walks among the trees, and then the tracks seemed to come alive with the sound of an oncoming train, barreling through the woods, stirring up birds cl...

Turn your residence into residue Your remains into resin, glue Turn your hesitance into something new Burn your lies right into you Branded Feels like I crash landed Alien with a vaguely familiar hand Staying in a strangely similar land Depths in vaults, echoes and volleys Odd plains and valleys Give way to Cold drains and alleys Sewer grates and man-made hates Washed to be broken dinner plates Smashed and choking sinner mates Elites shuffle feet, hem and haw Spread their legs and change the law Can’t make progress Without cracking eggs and skulls and jaws Creepy crawly At least until the creeping beast, unleashed has a chance to feast Mr. and Mrs. John McDivitt said that mangy thing is diseased with a tisk and little a risk to their dignity and a most disapproving look to make clear they are both the least bit pleased Shouldn’t have asked for it Should have washed hands of this mess to prevent disease White picket nightmare Panic he...