The two are preening and jostling for our attention
They say;
‘I am an outsider, I am cool like that.’
‘I was cheated on; publicly.’
‘I smoked weed and experimented with coke.’
‘I chug beers and throw back shots with Pennsylvania miners.’
‘I flow poetic.’
‘I dodged sniper bullets in Kosovo.’
‘I am a black man.’
‘I am your kryptonite, a white woman.’
Trying to be the cool kids in high school,
They think;
‘You aint shit.’
‘“Aint” is not a word.’
‘You are elitist.’
‘You are bitter.’
‘You are words and no substance.’
‘No substance? You are the blond.’
‘You nigger.’
‘You bitch.’
And we can’t turn away, propped in front of our TV’s, listening to anyone on the telly or anyone with a guitar, anyone to tell us whom to choose. We watch the greatest contest ever; fixated.
All of us, except one dead Greek.
One dead Greek probably called Democrus or something to that effect.
One dead Greek who spends his eternal days laughing in his grave.
One dead Greek who laughs at the cool kids, Barry O “the poet” and Hill C “the bullet dodger’, but most of all, one dead Greek who laughs at us.
Because you see, Democrus is the greatest prankster of all time, the greatest trickster who ever lived. And his greatest trick is making us believe that the most popular is the most capable.
Oh, how he laughs.
i kyambadde
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