Gangling person who pounds the pavement in which my words have fallen upon
Consternation follows me around like a homeless pooch,
And I so reluctant to feed it with my ego.
The mere knowledge of that impending doom,
Sitting upon the horizon
Makes my nerves jittery with fear.
I know nothing of modern struggles,
Only birthright and sacred circles.
I live by nights,
Sleep for days.
Had I been a shadow on the wall,
You'd never have seen me coming
For I slink slowly in,
And fade slowly out.
You'd never know I had inhabited this space,
You'd be left only with my smell of peonies.
I would never come to you,
I'd rather gouge my eyes out with bones from the bone game.
I'd rather play with your ego,
Like a playing a string on a golden harp.
I'd also like to knock you
Upside the head with an aluminum baseball bat but hey,
We can't always get what we want.
And my proof is that
I would rather have you destroyed than continue
To litter yourself with denotations of life
That I would never misinterpret as caring for others.
I heed my own warnings,
You heed my sacred words that fall at your feet,
You step on them to get to the next level,
Regarding them always,
But smashing the meaning out of them.
March 8, 2004
Suge
*In regards to the bone game, that is an indian game played in my tribe. Just in case you dullards feel the need to ask what it is.
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