23. "RE: tell me something about urself" In response to In response to 0
I’m young. I still crawl on the fuzz of life’s peaches My mind reaches only a few years of sun and rain My memory lane is more like a street block Strolling consciously as far back as 1993 But that’s just me Can’t say that I’ve felt, first hand, the jazz gland That once vibrated in John Coltrane’s loins Nor could I join in brassy parades of renegades “We Shall Overcome”ing national barricades Foreign objects include records and A-tracks Jerri Curls, fly girls, and the use of fanny packs. The artist formally known as Prince has never gyrated his twiggy hips on any of my stages Puberty is a war that wages Pimples dot my gauges of facial expression 16 years have left only sporadic chicken pock marks and it’s dreams of the future that spark my words. I’m un-molded clay, just a couple rings on the tree, I’m young and un-calloused, and that’s just me.