This has been a hectic week, and once again things outside of the writing world have delayed what we are doing here. But, apparently science or something like that says being late is a good thing? We’ll go with that. To get refocused, however, it is time to put everything under the sun on notice:

On Notice

Riddled with dozens of thoughts,

for whatever reason feeling lost,

but deploy the ink,

unfurl the pad,

nothing will land this determination like MOAB,

there’s desecration of others,

patriotic insignia,

claiming freedom is our right,

in the empire of America,

 

Wait, wait, wait…

this isn’t purely empirical criticism,

it’s marked-up, chalked-up laced cynicism,

Ritalin-infested,

cocaine-addicted,

Instagram-posting

sheer narcissism.

I do it too,

not like you,

but I see your truth,

but unlike you,

I write it out depending on the mood,

take shots sans bullets or liquor,

simply verbatim from when

I lived via lyrical concoctions

displeasing to you.

 

Never more,

no raven-speaking,

self-defeating,

insecure-hiding

souls will dim the lights.

I’m word-pursuing,

rhyming stymied

abstract lover tonight.

If I had kept listening to

people who couldn’t pass a test

by simply reading an hour a week or less,

what business do I have

of taking advice

from those who want to dim a shine

which will only appear in dreams for their success,

Pursuant of code

720, CO YOU KNOW,

representing where I’m from so heavily,

because it helped craft who stands in front of

your digital window.

 

So now that you know,

never take a chance to blow

unless the pressure clearly indicates or shows,

that you couldn’t take being put on notice,

before even the openers began. This. SHOW.

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