A Freestyle Poem Written in the Late 90s to Enjoy

Photo by Pexels


Look at that Pinto

Old paint, new wheels, stopping

and going

Going where?

Look at that Mercedes bitch

What a snob that lady

She likes that

She digs the attention in a place

where there's absence

Your mind, right?

It's absent

In the rearview mirror



way back

A girl is looking

Looking good and naked

Wow, what a slutty make up job!

What a sleaze!

I’ll slow down in this locomotive disaster

I want to see her sunflower rapture lush

Oh, my hot rod!

What a rush!

And damn the freeway

can't slow down

can't speed

can't dream

can't cheat

This finger flicking, smog inhalant,

lung butter hocking, screaming

mental institution

Only if Freud was here

That rat bastard killer machine

That monkey torturing loving freak

He would love the freeway

And what does he know about the psyche

We know

The freeway dwellers


Let's play God

let's battle

let's go to work

So we can make money to burn and pollute.

And shit

What a sunset!

A gold-brown synthetic sunset!

How beautiful!

How shameful!


Where are the mountains?

I can't see through the rusty sky

Where the gorillas go?


Look there hanging from the concrete jungle

Bleeding and dying those brutes

Why is that girl smiling?

Does she know about the Pinto's breath?

The poor lifeless green

What a mess

My isolation a distress

That mustang and that cougar

They're not the real offspring of nature

Just like the eclipse and the nova

Metaphor blunts


Let's shake it

rattle it

and roll it

You know God tried.

Damn the freeway!

slam poetry
Bazooka Teaches
Bazooka Teaches
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Bazooka Teaches

A regular Joe with a peculiar noodle inside his helmet. Loves to write and is constantly fighting the forces of evil.

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