Stories and Lies

Stories and Lies


They say that if you would do art
you ought to learn your craft
But if you would do modern art
You must do less than that.

A poem that's made with bricks and beams
it stultifies the soul
For better castles in the air
use shit and shine and coal.

To wit you need to go to hell
just like your father said
You need to pick a worm or two
to get inside your head.

And when you're there you really should
make friends in this low place
experience has taught them well
And made them good -n- base.

A wie-gie board, a bit of bat
can give your dark words wings
a long cold life of loneliness
that is the modern-man's spring.

Upon such ground you'll then erect
a structure truthful and crooked
Unless you fall short of the mark
and write a mouthful that's stupid.

It might take time to plumb the slime
and filth that leads to truth
But all that god-damn suffering
Makes you 100 proof.

But, still, we all can't sink so low
Some of us have a life
And if the hell-defiencient's you
There's still hope for your rhyme.

You need but stand against such norms
Write something sweet and nice
The world's so full of eating crap
So give us sugar and spice.