I’m not PC

I’m an equal opportunity offender

Don’t care about your race, class, sexual proclivities or gender

I myself oozed out of an amped up philosophic blender

My first act was to wipe off the stamp that said

“Return To Sender”

I’m not PC

Ask my boss… I’m more like PO-ed, tinkled 

I mean sprinkled thru w/ bitterly amused

& more than willing to

test your tolerance for being abused

By my humor or my caustic dipped in poison well honed tongue…

when my little world feels bruised

I find the moment or it finds me

Heaven and Hell don’t need eternity

I’m not PC

I’m not white, I’m melanically challenged

My busted heart pumps blood that’s red

Thru my poisoned brain in my damaged head

& to top it off, sometimes my balls are blue

I’m an all American

Emotional terrorist built for two

The years are twisted and fed

By the number of times I shoulda been dead

& I’m smiling at the vague shadowy memory

Of some half-lived fantasy that reaches out for me

But has yet to be…

Then genitalia in a bear trap irony 

Rudely wakes me from my dreamed of reality

At the supermarket checkout line

The tabloid headline

Assaults my whys and whens with

“Some of your co-workers may be space aliens”

I’d be more surprised if some were not, but that 

Aside, what do I do with the time I’ve got?

Satanic Romantic Charming Alarming Comic Bit

Call it what you want

I’m still the same old dude

Pulling the same old shit

Making my life performance art

& calling myself a Poet