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Living in LA

An Old Poem of Mine Based on My Home City

By Bazooka TeachesPublished 6 years ago Updated 3 years ago 3 min read
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a real great offense

some dirty clothes

and a few helmets

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makes a good team

said the fat man with a mustache

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a few high notes and a few low notes

too bad Mozart did not know

but Marilyn Manson provoked

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Boobs, butts, and big bellies

what strippers have in the valley

=

they can run a defensive lineman

or have a cat chased by a dog

and rats can really like the trash

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birds poo on windshields

and cats poo in their litters

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reading and relaxing at the beach

seaweed around my ankles

riding a wave on my longboard

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doing a hang-ten

falling off and breaking my leg

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it’s television’s biggest night

all artists are dressed in gala

with horsehair dresses and wedding bans

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why are they so materialistic?

maybe they feel like they’re insufficient

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makes me want to stay

cause they have a big gimmick

they also have interesting people

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and all the pretty stars

they get beat up

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a woman married to the mob

why not be normal

maybe it’s too vacant at her house

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escape to nirvana

12 gauge another rage

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the next dimension of clean

is at the urban scene

but everything could go wrong

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imagine yourself like an old man

going to Disneyland for salvation

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no one tells you they’re going to kill you

you know what I’m talking about, kid?

the babes in the woods routine

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your only salvation is to disappear

but keep the sugar-bowl and the car

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everything is for the taking

when you're a nobody

but someday be anybody

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I feel like LA

why not Chinese?

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parking lot black pigeon

karate chop the speedbump

skid marks are red tone

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sing to me baby

hurt me and make me feel good

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the spirit of Jimi James and the Blue Flames

lives through the streets of intoxication

and living in a patented trashy circle

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check the labels

your hope will save the world

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television really cares

for magnificent fortresses and lavish gardens

with artistry designed for ceilings

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what a beautiful view from the Getty

out to the stoic city

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own style of clothing

refuse to wear condoms

how about that protection?

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believers neglect their appearance

ancestors come for your soul

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graves of concrete

two burials for the price of one

'cause is the bargain of the month

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the colors you dream in

rests in the hands of God

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how much is a body worth?

a pack of cigarettes

or some boots

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language of silence

I actually got it

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keep the cool longer

fuses are burning

tricksters are fooling

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fire to the heart

like an untreatable form of cancer

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you’re playing a game

snake eyes can be your friend

with a beer in your hand

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marinated thoughts of distress

of life’s foolish fixes

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by Bazooka Teaches and Amneris Gonzalez

performance poetry
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About the Creator

Bazooka Teaches

A regular Joe that is just surviving the struggle. Loves to write and is constantly fighting the forces of evil.

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