I check around
for poetry on cd
but all I see
are failed rappers
and celebrity wannabees
but I ain’t hip hop
and I ain’t slam
and I ain’t even feelin’
good about
saying ain’t
that’s not me
I’m too old
to be street
and I’m too off-white
to be black
and I’m too brown
to be white
and I have too many
college degrees
and none of them
in creative writing
I have a lovely
home on the hill
with a 30 year
fixed rate mortgage
so where’s my pain?
where’s my street cred?
I wouldn’t even use the
N word
and if I did
I wouldn’t make it plural
by slapping a
Z on the end
but what we have in common
though
is anger
at an unjust system
in the big picture
at feeling invisible
in the heart of our souls
we might all
want you to think we’re
badass noble savages
but be not fooled
by the façade:
it’s more than money
we’re all searching
for validation
a reflection in an audience
a temporary triumph
over the infinite darkness
and the echoing laughter
of the Void:
“Look at me!
See? I matter!”
and as you visit upon
these words
you make me real
for just a moment
and I will most likely
fade away
as you move on the next
poet
failed rapper
or celebrity wannabee.