There was a country song on
When I was a young
Boy that, like many do-it-yourself bullshit pop-up McSongs are
On the radio today
Was a list of what the average, everyday
Common man goes through
In his (and I mean his, not hers, mind you)
Long lived life
When lived just right
The chorus declared
From the town square
That you gotta ‘get you some’
Then they’d tell you the what
First money, then love, then babies…then done
Like many other people in this country, and time
I was raised below a line
The poverty kind
The lovely lower class
Watching middle class asses
Sit on my glass
Ceiling and pass
Giant plates of food
Past
Our grasping hands to
Each other
As a boy I’d take in
The bottom of their chins
As they’d shit again
On what was given
To them
And looked with longing to
The next glass they knew
The one that gave view
Of the upper crusted puppets
Controlled, but free
I was told I had to get me some money
But unlike the rest
Of this generation’s best
I said fuck
Money
And I’ll say it again
FUCK MONEY
And if there are those that agree
That were born free
To say it with me
The freedom to see
Wrapped in a box with holes and slashes
Called lower class
But actually a fantastic
Gift. Then say it with me
Fuck. Money.
And if I hear
Out here
In the city I live
Another song
With this
Insistence
That I chase more bills
And get more thrills
From big oil spills
And more credit card bills
Then I swear I will
Rip every radio from the walls
Until there’s no noise at all
But the penniless artist
On the corner with guitar
Waiting for his call
From the companies that started
This whole fucking case
In the first place
Every twenty something
Needs to be free
Of this bullshit noise
Of dollars and coins
And just live on a dime
Free Ninety Nine
And no tax
But that
Wasn’t all I was told
I had to get, hold
Onto
Part two
I was told to get love
Had to get me some
But the love of doves from above
Wrapped in charms and arms
Bullshit cheap rhymes
Bored my mind
And made my eyes
Dry
And bleed
I have always needed
Something more than that gnat
That flies around splat
And hits you in the eye
While you blink and you cry
And your lids
Bring it
To what it wanted all along
A sad country song,
And a death from a blink
Before you could think
How gross
The whole
Process really was
Fuck love
The ‘gotta have it’ just cuz
Kind at least
Don’t bother me
With your bullying
Insistence I scorn
A life lived alone
For any period of time
When I
Alone, am just fine
With my own set of rhymes
Much better than lovey doves
From above
But instead from below
From a place I know
To be real and alone
And while I know
I will love as I go
I will never feel bad
For flying solo
Just cuz they said so
And since I’m on a roll
There’s one more part of me
That felt the sting
From these
The part three
Gotta get you some…babies
No
I
Don’t
And neither do you
Ever traveled to India?
I’m guessing Mr. country song hasn’t yet, have ya?
Well let me tell you firsthand what I was lucky to see
Lucky said meaning luckily
I am me
A queer and so I don’t have to submit
To the bullshit pressure to make more kids
A woman’s got enough
Shit that is tough
To have to live with
Without being forced to make more kids
They can also grow
Ideas that will show
You things you’d never know
You didn’t even know
So
If you wanna chillax
Take a step back
And say ‘Damn there’s a lot of us’
You can trust
That I’ll be on your side
Keeping your mind
Clear
Of fear
That you’re missing your chance
Because you’re giving one too
The chance to
The earth to finally breathe
Taking gulps from the gulfs
Covered deep in debris
And it’s just the way
I see myself play
A role in this place
But mother earth gives more every time we take
Keeps sending more queers into this place
To take care of kids who don’t have a space
To play
And call their own
And you can fight it if you want
But we’re a place to call home
And all the while songs tell boys like me
That I’m somehow wrong for existing
But I’m finished with songs from that country
And it seems since the start they were finished with me
But so long as we sing
As loud and bring
Our selves to the ring
If this is a fight you gotta miss
Its worth TiVoing
And so long as I live
I will not let this
Musical attack
Keep coming back
To stop dead in our tracks
Anyone else like me
Who doesn’t see
Why we all must be
Exactly
The same. Enough to write in a song
Just three minutes long
And loud enough to hold
A hand over throats
And squeeze them closed
I promise to go
To the source and stand bold
From a voice that rings cold
And tell them so
I said let go.
I said
Let go.
