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A Self-Made Idiot

Poetry By: devilrod
Memoir


No need.


Submitted:Jul 14, 2007    Reads: 131    Comments: 5    Likes: 0   


I guess I could say a few things

My writing is mostly stream o' consciousness balogna

Sometimes I try for a rhyme

Sometimes a reason

What I lack in character and substance

I more than make up for in pure ignorance

Never would I claim to know anything for sure

To know everything would be too much responsibilty

I like coffee and Sports Center

An American male

Heir to my father's brash stubborness

And my mother's diminutive sweetness

Nothing but love and respect for them both

But I�think children�have to deal more with�their parents' issues than the parents

A funny childhood in a mad way

A DEA helicopter lands in your yard one day

And you're making home-made icecream and cooking out the next

Being toted along with dad and his drunk biker buddies

Then going to listen to mom's brother's sermon, at his church

A dichotomy of worlds

Polarized then galvanized with my own choices

Reading�Kerouac doesn't help

Now I feel that I must make someone laugh

Or I will have to laugh at myself

Rumi said "O tongue, you are an endless treasure. O tongue, you are also an endless disease."

So true, that my tongue has served me most joyously

And tasted such sourness





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