Messy Jesse

Please note:

An audio recording of this poem is available below the jump.

The poem is read by the author.


– The Editor.

That’s just messy, Jesse,
You are not Kanye,
Though, your rhymes
Are on time,
You mucked up
Th’other day.
Them’s fightin’ words,
A whispered Push,
That the whole world heard
Like a bomb
From the Bush.
Is it because 2008
Took away from ’88,
And left a negative Jackson
To gnash green eyes at fate?
Or is it because Barama’s
A cool, young fool,
A generation apart
from King’s severed jewels?

Sure, you’re sorry:
That’s how the world spins,
And of course
You two’ll be all hugs
And shit-eating grins,
Once you’ve convened
And conversed alone–
Away from the sly
Fox whose camera’s
Always on…

Messy Jesse