performance poetry
Performance Poetry is poetry out loud; poems brought from the page to the stage.
New Brunswicked
Christ four more days and I’m outta here, this time it was the beer. I knew I shouldn’t of drank that shit alpine, I’m back in doing more time. This is becoming a second home of mine. I want to say I’ll never be back but I’m on a fucking looping track. I’ve hit this pit stop, four times since me balls dropped. As long as I’m alive I’m sure I’ll see stop five. It’ll probably be on some dumb shit like fucking up with some dumb bitch. Maybe I’ll try and get hitched, get married to a fine whore real proper and avoid giving purpose to a copper. Didn’t really even do much bad this round, but my record reckons me to impound. First stint was a B&E, second stint involved a burnt DVD. Third was absurd, never finger bang a nerd. Now I’m here on the fourth, they finally sent me up north. I was drinking as I do daily, work had failed to pay me, I suppose I shoulda shown up, actually if I had a job that woulda doubled my luck. No pay-cheque the bottle wasn’t drippin' a damn drop, so on my scooter I hopped, that’s right I’m a drunk and I scoot so I’m a fag, doesn’t matter cause I gotta get half in the bag. I mongo push to the west end to meet up with my best friend, I don’t even really like him that much, but he cashes the welfare and he’ll get me drunk so I don’t care. So finally I get there , he’s half sauced on a lawn chair. I say “yo what’s up Blair?” “You know man I’m just living the dreams.” Yeah that’s what half drunk on a lawn chair screams, he has liquor though it seems. “I came over to chill with you.” “Well grab a chair and a brew.” The chair was out back by the twelve pack, I grabbed four and he’s lucky I didn’t grab more, the pussies drinking bud light, I don’t even like em but I’ll drink em just to spite him, fucking bud light! I shot gun two and threw em in the bushes, this dudes gayer than me and I got mongo pushes.
By Mr. KUTZKY8 years ago in Poets
