Open mic - 1997

This is the first peas i wrote to be performed as spoken word


Open mic - 1997

Is this mic on
Staggering in like a three legged table
We will wobble - and we do fall down
Like swimming in a sea of sorrow
We often drown
Waiting for tomorrow
And just wanting one plus one to equal one
Are you not ready yet
Dancing on a grave mistake
It is gross what we net
And one eye open the good one closed
Lost it in a bet
And its Hip to dig it
Yeah it’s groove thing
And a should of
If I could of
But truth out weighs the haste
Does it matter
Does anything really matter
As these drums go pitter patter-pitter patter
A pattern a pattern
Does anyone else notice
Is this mic on

A 2 am munchies run
Cherry bomb swirl in - at a 2 am pull over
Act like Elvis
All stony eyed smooth out
This edginess
A surreal cartwheel into broken glass
One more hack
Another 10 w 30 joke
And another toke
I ask again is this mic on
Is there any dignity
In not being heard
In not being in a heard
Baaaaaaaa bbbaaaaaaa
Sheep fall off zone
And a radio drones off