A Real Bombshell (Reprise)

A poem is incendiary
Never think it’s not
Never think it won’t explode
Your deepest, darkest thought

The one you hide so far inside
The one that’s all about
How badly they will treat you
If they ever find you out

What’s worse is you agree that
You’d deserve it if they did
That you’re less than you should be
So you strive to keep it hid

For you like petting little dogs and
Even kittens — how uncool!
Feel you can’t lift your chin when
You say where you went to school

Your teeth are less than perfect
There’s a blackhead on your skin
And Mother Nature somehow
Just forget to make you thin

Not to mention you are kind
Women and children to
Polite to passers by
And helpful weaker folks unto

How can you say cool words like
“Bitch” and “ho'” and macho stuff
Like “Shut up, put up or get out!”
If you don’t “like it rough”

If you don’t think that ghetto
Is the finest way of all
Think real communication’s hip
Not just a verbal scrawl

Feel words were mostly meant
To mean exactly what they said
And not their opposite,
Or something wierder yet, instead?

You smell like inexpensive soap
Instead of Eau de Aire
Or — heavens! — like a little sweat
Earned in the sun and air

It’s clear you don’t pay more than
A few dollars for your cut
And — lord! — what’s that beside
You — a low, unpedigreed mutt?

Your shirts lack death’s heads
Printed on their frontal fabric — why,
I could go on and on and ON
How coolness seems to pass you by!

You sometimes wish for happiness
In different ways than others might
And something individual
Gets you turned on at night

You have a hobby other
Than busting a cap in someone’s ass
To you love and forgiveness
Really have a lot of class

They don’t care what it was you said
Don’t bother to begin again
Because you didn’t say it once
To any famous men

Unlike most anybody
You don’t seem to like a fight
You’d rather stay at home
And make some ripple fudge delight

Whilst feeling happy feelings
Thinking happy thoughts as well
Gosh, the list of your uncoolnesses
Is more than tongue can tell!…

If you’ll allow it to, this verse
Will blow those thoughts away
And as they go you’ll look
At them and to your bad self say

“Who made destruction hip
And constructivity all square?
And how’s my worth reflected
By the trimming of my hair?

“If I prefer my t-shirts plain or
Maybe with a mandala
And underneath don’t wear
This year’s ultraprescription bra

“If I reach out to others with
A smile and not a sneer
Refusing to allow my
Every action to be ruled by fear

“Of someone else’s judgment
Which my TV said was true, and
Get off on petting kittens, how’s
That make me less than you?”

And then you’ll saunter off with
Just the sort of carefree gait,
The sort of carefree smile which
Let’s ’em know you’re feeling great

And watch folks open up to
All that happiness and joy
They’ll wonder what mysterious
Techniques you might employ

“Petting pups is good,” you’ll tell ’em
“Hugging trees is even better
And for the most radical rush
Write your grandma a little letter

“Why that’s coolness unsurpassed!
You need to know what that word means?
It means as high as you can
Get not eating poison beans

“The internet is free, and
Afterward you sure won’t need to
Sleep for a damn solid week and
Spend the next one feeling blue!”

Yes, take the dynamite this poem has
For you, plug in the fuse
And add your heart’s fire at the end
Its energy to use

Forget their smirks and sneers, forget
Them laughing as you go
They’re trying to figure out what’s cool —
Something which you already know

And now you’re certain of — now
When you stride into their day
They’ll straight forget about false cool
They’ll be so blown away!



Ana Daksina View All →

A poet is the strangest sort of soul
You in this life may e'er expect to meet
More broken even while more truly whole,
Innocently intending well, more sweet

Than any but a five year old should be
Unfit to meet a callused world's demand
Or to behave aught expediently
All grace in flight; an albatross on land

Do not the all too common error make
Do not fall into the too easy trap
Avoid the fatal egoic mistake
Imagining that poet be a sap

Powerful spirits classic and antique
Give voice when poets ope their mouths to speak

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