1 Poem by
Trina Stolec
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Off The Bat
Let's get one thing straight ...
I never went to poet school.
I don't use
overblown, over dramatic
B-Actor wide arm gestures
to emphasize the "real"
in my words.
I'm more likely
to twist your synapses
than flirt you into
poetry-groupies.
I may have big tits,
but I won't stoop that low
to make you listen.
And I have the audacity
to think that doesn't matter,
call myself "poet".
Let's get another thing straight...
it's not wise to piss off a poet.
You can't jeopardize our popularity;
poetry isn't popular.
You can't threaten our livelihood,
this isn't how we earn our living.
You can't blacken our reputations;
poets don't have reputations
outside the poetry scene,
and in the poetry scene -
the blacker, the better.
Poets have nothing to lose,
no reason not to
piss you off right back..
Let's get something else straight...
My words are MY words.
This isn't a Backstreet Boys concert.
No record producer put syllables in my mouth
to feed the children what the record company
wants them to hear.
They tried female bands,
ended up with Spiced Bitches.
Even the record companies stick to
boys and baby girls now
to sell that "feel good" crock of shit
every teacher you've had
brainwashed into your gray matter
to boost your self esteem.
And you still
Can't Get No Satisfaction,
because the record company decided
the new millennium version
shouldn't mention
sex, drugs, smoking, alcohol, suicide, guns, or
anything that might disturb the youngsters.
It's a Rolling Stones tune, for God sakes,--
what's left?
Let's get yet another thing straight...
This is poetry,
not a Simpsons rerun.
Real life is that 42% of 11 - 15 year olds
want to be older so they can drive;
2% so they can vote.
Real life is the coffee shop crowds
laugh at how drunk they were last night,
and ask, "Mandela, who?"
Real life is your next-door neighbor
going postal on his wife and kids,
and you close the window to
block out the noise.
Buy your "feel good" escapism
some place else.
Real life has become
the sexual mutilation of Eastern women
isn't as bad as the last Van Damme movie
and just about as real to you,
so let's go see Friday The Thirteenth Part 587
and forget it.
We can make out in the back row.
Getting laid is important.
Let's get one last thing straight...
I don't deal in "feel good" propaganda.
I am a poet.
I'm not here to boost self-esteem,
or stroke egos till you get wood
or cream your silk undies.
The fact is,
I may fuck with your mind,
but reality is what
really fucks you.
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