Saturday, May 1, 2010

The Blitz

I am
to you, less
addicted to
for factions
or fashions
need water
or rations
but we ain't
no plot or
no passion
'cause we
ain't for
or lack there of.
You see
it's me
you're comin' for
'cause I keep
spitting lore
like a common whore
or your dad
when you were four
and I pour
the words
right down your throat
you come back for more
but you can't
get past my moat
of allusions and rhymes
just past the time
of war
it's what time
is for
a sight for sore
eyes that blind
and hands of gore
lips that list
a love I've kissed
they ask me the name
I say
"if it's all the same
we're not at the ritz,
so call this
The Blitz"

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