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Thursday, November 13, 2014

Audenesque Hip-Hop

(in which a slam poet takes down a formalist)


Stubbly rumpled bumbler,
You think you can rhyme?
Blue-eyed gray-haired mumbler--
That should be a crime!

Doofus, numbskull, goober,
Rap like Ezra Pound,
Hapless as a tuber
Sleeping underground.

Egghead so nerdacious,
Watch you bust a move:
Klutzy but audacious,
So bereft of groove!

Dweebalicious paleface,
With your words so nice,
Disgrace to the male race,
Wet as melted ice,

If you were a poet
You might answer back.
All the MCs know it:
Swagger’s what you lack.

Egocentric lightweight,
Shallow silly fop --
Your bulb’s not so bright, mate:
Stick to ’60s pop.

Launch your weak invasion,
Stiff pedantic bloke,
Fluent in Caucasian,
Punchline to a joke.

Polishing your grammar,
How much can you know?
Six months in the slammer
Might teach you to flow.

Boy, you couldn’t fill a
Beer-hall in Duluth!
Tragically vanilla:
That’s the simple truth.

Chucklehead so lonely,
Train-wreck, walking gaffe,
Try to rhyme, you’ll only
Make your neighbours laugh.

In the Silverware Drawer After Dark

The steak knives are playing the Ramones at full blast. The salad forks are dancing with the teaspoons to the tune of "Come On, Ei...