Undertitled Poem by Nat Z. Punx

and i sit look at the K
and if i split it
then added a zero
i would be back there
in the freak middle class
it's meaningless
like new orleans
and the bears
or nancy grace
and her murder de jour
i said it out loud
everybody's getting killed tonight
how dirivitave
i don't have many friends
i nicked the rock glass
though i have such a prefunctuary respect for the queer
but tonight
they were just like everybody else
and damn it
it was my vodka to begin with
i stole it fair and square
and the fat kid with privilege
said it was handed to me
i said no no man
lots of stuff is handed
but you didnt dropp it
be proud
and i think he was
but he got about as much action as me
he stumbled outside
wandering aimlessly
as i took my programmed steps home
and sat here
waiting for the angels to return