if the chronology of asylum
is where your habits build
then you are fastened via hook and eye
hooks in eyes
as far from immunity as from sight
where the reflector through which women
see the daughters of their mothers
when they look for themselves
in which they hide opinions
and their children
can only judge such worth
by what told observation bestow
propagating whole eras of glass castles
worn wounds tucked behind silk robes
Bodysuit. Bodysuit. Bodysuit.
Continue loving your low-waisted jeans, just wear a bodysuit. Easy. Hearts!
hey you with your tact lack
your had-glad pack
and your rock (crack)
this isn’t a buffet
or a heyday
for bent you says
a sad poli-con
voice long gone
war un-won
I see you’re solo
flow borrowed
or so the song goes
but wait – you’re so ‘hard’, (ooh-ya-ya-ya)
rhyming ya against ya doesn’t qualify you, mozart
them pickins be well, kinda kindergarden
I’d prefer to see you pushing the limits of vocabulary
if the big words are ‘hard’, check out a dictionary
oh ya, you didn’t write it, you just bite it
much like your style, it’s paid for, right?
your fake everything is played out & trite
I sure hate to burst your ego
smash your castle (of lego)
deliver low blows below the belt yo
we catch ya later on the chart slide
when your free ride goes nose dive
when you contrive a fat revive
only to find
a closed narrative
fringe living on the outskirts
intentions divert, name dirt dirt
evolutionary revert
(ooh-ya-ya-ya)
