Rhapsody

I fulminate my own words and
annihilate this absurd verse,
like it's a guitar verses two chords
with the same note, played in reverse.

This is poetry, I don't need to rehearse.
I'm where the Dictionary gets words.
Every ill rhyme is a sick curse.
Bleeding out my pen, we need a Bic nurse.

Spilling innocent ink
one cartridge at a time.
Singing in sync
I’m beginning to think,
these are slick lines.

You want to hear it all, so
you got the mute paused,
but you can’t hear me because
I pen to papered this whole rap song.

These words I’m writing off,
erasing the cause because,
it’s too scripted to speak of,
these vowels between us
delegating sentences.

Let us collaborate recourse
to restore accordingly order
and stop reading this dead horse.

by Jody Pratt

Words In Motion 2014