slam poet
lame.stop.
(please.sing.)
you have cheapened the Ars
by showing your arse
by wagging your tongue
exhaling your carbon dioxide
(when you silence your tongue
the superverbal radiance radiance will aerify
then
full of breath
the reader-listeners’ brains will capture, fire
(you will be tree))
you cannot fast talk your way to poethood
your whirls of words
are empty gas-motions
re-motions of emotions
dustdevils like other dustdevils
you.sound.the same.
be a tempest
after which descends copious showers
a quadrillion droplets of rise
let there be
agmas and velarizations
instead of accelerations
let there be
flipped fricatives and guttural glottal greenery
let your
elisions and apocopations
have some space
if you want to wear berets
and slits of goatees
the groove high. dizzy
ingly
i have seen twinkles in your fireworks:
with one spark
bring into being a sun
which catches loose heavenstones
and makes them dance
for eons on
