poem

baby

My gruff and indistinct words

bare the mark of resentful lungs

that hate me evermore as I take another drag

on what’s left of my cigarette.

I’m lost to a familiar bliss

and am momentarily out of mind,

vacant to social taboos

that would have otherwise prevented me

from blowing smoke into a child’s face.

She was crying now

I’d need another cigarette.

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Nepotista: A prediction

Kanye has spawned a child giving her literal direction in name – carved an image and hatched to a vision of fame.

Manifesting as an extension of her father’s ego, so wherever they point the cameras that’s where we’ll go

we push our noses to the window and tweet from on the grapevine – the culture of celebrity has dispensed with the divine.

we offer them praise but scrutinise them for their flaws, we concede that we will never be them and yet ache for something more

we are empty. we are void.

Our conception of contentment has been distorted and destroyed.

so as long as there’s a stage and the little girl sings

we’ll watch her come apart with her waxy wings

like Will Smith’s kids who stand tall on family wealth,

the wind in Willow’s hair as she whips it back and forth,

we are promised a life in the spotlight of baby girl North.

Likewise

we can think it likely that she will take to music

surrounded by connections, a captive audience and those hungry to capitalise..

The cracks can be painted over now that music is digitised

an auto-tuned lullaby lamenting the day the music died.

Rappers have a tendency to talk about their names

a customised title that speaks to character

both a badge and a facade that divides the person from persona.

A disguise known better than the person inside.

A broken mask and a blurred line.

she is a product, a brand and an opportunity.

she is stock, venture capital,

grabbing attention, gaining interest

nevertheless expect the debut solo: North by North West

Africa

the chicken gets off the bus and crosses the road

rosa parks on a double yellow and gets her car towed

mario’s peachy by the smell of his clothes

after sitting on a pin mary rose declared she was off to rome

all roads lead there but there’s no place like home

so if you get homesick and want to get home quick

follow the road made of yellow brick

mind the little monkeys with wings

you’re best off with the munchkins

in case you didn’t know though

they’re getting paid less than toto

so a tip would go far

god bless you sir

and the rain that falls in africa

guarantor (too many mikes not enough mcs)

I get hot-headed sometimes

usually when I’m wearing hats

I heat the roof to stave away the cats

apparently they’re not too fond of hot tin

I got some glaswegians to stop them coming in

but I can’t be sure they’ve clocked in

cas after all who watches the scotchmen?

kenny rogers just dropped in

says his lodgers are starting to cost him

I told him that before he calls the cops in

he should call michael myers first

voice of shrek and face of kirk

he might be a killer

but he married an axe murderer

I can’t say I know her

cas I’ve never even heard of her

but she must get lonely at the end of october