Part One
This poem doesn't rhyme
Because it doesn't have to
It reminds me of an Autumn storm
The cataracts and hurricanoes of nature's splendor
Bellowing without rhyme nor reason
And there are also some leaves blowing around
And clouds and shit

This poem is full of themes and imagery
It has ten pounds of profundity in a five pound bag
And it has enough symbolism to knock a buzzard off a shit wagon

Part Two, Or: A Pulchritudinous Interlude
Whilst walking down the street the other day
Looking at the world in that special way only I am capable of
I saw an old man sitting on a bench
His fedora jammed down over his wrinkled ears
His threadbare shirt flapping in the breeze
He was sitting askew, hunched and folded and
Bent like a marionette cast aside by a thoughtless child
Truly, time makes Muppets of us all
And as I stared at his face
I saw the face of God Himself
All shriveled and ugly-like
And it occurred to me:
Perhaps there is order in our universe
A benevolent system by which we all abide
And then I thought:
Where the fuck is my car?

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Like my soul???

Part Seven
The words I'm reading right now are in the shape of a majestic stallion
That's called concrete poetry, brother
And it's a shame you're not reading it yourself
Because I assure you it is awesome
This word horse is galloping along the Texas-Mexico border
In the year 1853
You can tell because
The words are also in the shape of a Far Side calendar
That's sitting on a cactus
This stallion, being all majestical and such
Reminds me of myself:
Proud and regal
A marbled notebook tucked in the folds of my messenger bag
My recumbent bicycle glinting in the noonday sun
As I pedal my way to Starbucks
For a venti mocha non-fat latte
With some bean sprouts all up in there

Part Conclusion
This next part is the best one
Where I pull everything together
And introduce some heavy shit
That will blow your mind
You see
We are all one
And we are all equals
We are all beautiful
We are all special
And we are all the same in the eyes
Of our respective creators
And if you assholes were as perceptive as I am
You would know that already
THIS SCRIPT IS COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL AND MAY NOT BE DOWNLOADED, TRANSMITTED, PRINTED OR PERFORMED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR

• June 9, 2006 - No Shame Roanoke
  

  performed by Ben R. Williams

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