That Kind of Rich
For all the Ghosts
Bitch,
I didn’t get where I am by listening
(you think they said
“yea, go be a poet”)
“Listen to me
my wicked guidance
about how to be rich!”
fuck
your tiny crumbs
made into mountains of crime
the skill of slander
is not the
key to the golden road
O! To hate a vagabond’s freedom
Because one can’t imagine
Choosing to be so free or so helpful
Can’t imagine
Choosing the value of
Experience over fucking
Money
When I am rich and famous
I will not need to be like you
I will need to not be like you
For all the world to see
It is not necessary to be like you
It is not necessary to
Carry judgment like a hammer
(I’ll be great without you
Just you watch,
From very, very far)
The point is when I am rich
And famous
I am going to be
Fabulous fucking me
I am going to be as nice
And kind and loving as I goddamn want
I will spend money and time and love
on my mother
At her bedside when she is sick
And old and dying
I will not commit my mother
On some stranger’s 30 second take of
Early dementia and steal
Away her medical rights
And toss her away so
I can live my great rich life the way
You stranger fucking psycho want me to
I will not spin dinners of
Thousand dollar coffee laced with
Snake oil libel
& tornados[tornadoes] between lovers
I will make flowers in the street
I will make friends
with edges as sweet as melting pears
energy tinged with electric maybes
lightening[lightning?] capacity for manifestation
Because like me
They don’t have time
To listen to crisp slime
Which smites of damnation
Because they have poetry to write
Dancing in the street
To supply
Things to fucking do
Because they are winners
Not bitter bitches
On scorpio moon
Nitemare trips
I didn’t get where I am
Listening to people
Who eclipse me
I got where I am
By holding myself to the fires
Of my soul
And my soul alone
By choosing my values
And living them bold
In the sky
Despite all the
Assholes who tell me
“you’re wrong”
Sigh
Don’t underestimate me
Because I chose to curate
This beautiful
Naivety
I did it on purpose
I fought for it
Being beautiful naïve
And perceptive
And open
Is a choice
It is not a stupidity
The things I will never say to you
To anyone
Not because I can’t
Because they are ugly :
Listen
Don’t you realize?
As your tone screeches
Down your nose
If I had made your
Choices I would have been
Much better than you
But I am that good
That I could chose
To be me