Rock the Party, Fuck the Smackdown

under Bill Brown’s blue chicago there’s
unrest in response to continued scolding.

thing object. matter ain’t the same
as one another. things don’t represent
they must be broke. they cannot pay attention
to objects like objects so they stay mad
all the goddamn time, broken glasses
everywhere. but I sound better since you
cut my throat. the checkerboard is also a
chess board. it’s also a cutting board and a

sound board. it’s also a winding sheet and a
sound booth.

now you’re bored with all these healthy choices
and you don’t want to sound as clean as this.
shit smoothed out on me by accident too.
how did I get here? I lost my ideological
mama and her things. her thing’s in storage
in north las vegas but no matter. ain’t no thing.

’cause when the morning breaks I’ma get my sound back
and all my native weather will be mine.