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.


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

For my love

jump for joy

jump for me

(I like to watch people jump

just as much as joy)

jump to hell and back

jump helen of troy

jump helen mirren

beside helena bonham carter

jump queen to jump jack after

jump helen keller

she won’t know

plus no-one could tell her

jump cinderblocks

jump cinderella

jump with one shoe to lost property

jump the queue to the vip

jump jack flash

dance jump style

jump ship

jump around

jump up jump out

and get drowned

I’ll jump out and find somewhere to park

don’t jump the gun or

jump the shark

the waters not cold

just jump in

white men can’t jump

black men can’t swim

jump out of your chair

jump out of your skin

jumping in at number one

is jump by van halen

echo chamber

their bubble of shared opinion

shielded them from the noise outside.

someone had read something somewhere

and almost impossibly so had another

and so the idea remained undisputed by the others.

their words would overlap whilst they nodded in consideration

offering a kind of preemptive agreement.

it all made sense

as though they knew this already.

the devil’s advocate took notes and conceded

later she would look for more information

but all she would find is affirmation.

the drug and drive of a lost generation.

overwhelmed by overpopulation

networks had helped to make the world seem smaller.

gifted with significance they could find someone who agreed

they existed in the vastness

in technology as in nature