jeudi, juin 01, 2006

In Love With A Thug*

Are u feeling his vans, his (slightly) baggy jeans, his kid'n' play appeal?

Battery. A sprinkle of assault. I'm a narcissistic masochist on edge. I have tried to fly but boxcutters don't make it past security. Earthound, I falter. My upper arm is all flab. I can't muster the strength to lunge so the blade catches me on the way down.** Please believe it's bruising without the stiff cushion of Cabrera's hair. It can't be like this but it's here, it's here, it's here...and I have got to believe (in it) next time I slice my left index finger dicing onions. There is new Tupperware for my tears, a snappy Ziploc for snot. Yellow and green makes blue so I'll listen to Miles and try not to channel Frances during one of his cocaina binges. The birthday book got it all wrong; me and Miles are a few score and 1 day apart. "I guess I'll have to play Pagliacci."

I'm on the up and up and up and up and oh so wind weary but Pyeng Threadgill is softening the whip. What would I do without la musique.

PS- How come noone told me about Hannah Montana? I saw a commercial for that and was disturbed that it wasn't a part of my admittedly limited television viewing. And the NAACP needs to campaign for new episodes of The Proud Family.

* Sharissa holds a special place in my heart for getting booed of the stage at a homecoming Fashion Friday and for putting this man(tronix) in her video.
**Excellent pop song BTW. On a similar MTV rotational note: I'm feeling Panic! at the Disco more and more each day.