Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

If you didn't brawl and ball,
and maul, crawl and shoot and
splatter blood when it mattered,
then you ain't shit, you ain't fit to
ride inside this ghetto, and if you
died the wrong way, way back then
when you ran out of art, then fuck you,
fuck Jack too in double pigshit.
If you can't die like a man, with at
least a pistol cocked to your head,
or God coming down to smite,
then you ain't shit.

Hell yeah, Mongolia ! and I thought not being shit was a good thing. No need to be such a tragedian about it. Hubris ? A touch supercilious perhaps ? At least you tried to be poetic about it, applause for that, clap-clap-clap.

Yeah, all that and more. Thanks for the inspiration.

In Doctor Doom's truchstop somewhere in New England or Upstate NY I saw a bumper sticker that said "if you ain't a trucker — you ain't shit"

shit
i feel a jam comming at me
yes yes yes
there was shit to the left of us and shit to the right
but boldly we road and well

gun to head?
well never come to that
there was a time when me and my roommates shot gun used to have long conversations deep into the night till i finally fell asleep

don't mean nothing
just jitterbuging the keys

listen to the music the only proof we have that G—d exists
sounds like a road trip or a couple of miniatures of Jim Beam AppleWood™

I really shouldn't write so-called "poetry" in reaction to shit, but I guess I did, again, here, maybe a little pissed to read, yet again and again and again that if you're anyone that anyone's heard of, then the way you die and circumstances at the end somehow make you better or worse (check Box 1A or 1B) than other similar people. Sorry, but I couldn't get behind that. At all.