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lyrics

Sorry I don’t paint the walls blue with hope,
but splatter bloody bricks through the windows of destructive art.

Sorry I don’t make you feel good, like everything is oh so wonderful in life and it’s never been better and I’m pushing and pushing through the helpless swamps on my way to be great,
but instead set the swamps on fire and run through the flames naked as Twin Towers everywhere collapse in spurts of smoke and steam and this—this—THIS—is my reason to live.

Sorry I’m not ten-feet tall with a gut full of food and a mind that ruminates relentlessly about the needs of others, and and and—you know—
because I’m selfish and stubborn and yet I’m doing my best to help out others who come my way; but even so your existence doesn’t usually cross my mind unless you’re right there in front of me.

Sorry my poetry doesn’t spin webs of phony prayers of hope and fabricated wonder that brings you joyful tears, but instead
it’s like a submachine gun as the bullets tear into a condemned man and he’s screaming and crying as I pull the trigger….

Trust me, I am good and I’m doing the best I can, and I’m getting better every day I set down one foot after another, and I’m plowing my own way through a shit-filled existence with liars who will cut you down before you step one foot out your door, and I’m living honestly and I give and I give, although you wouldn’t know anything about it because I don’t vocalize my acts of goodness—wait, I just did.

In short: Sorry I’m not a liar.

credits

from Absurd Nihilism, released June 14, 2016

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Jeremy Void Rutland, Vermont

Jeremy Void is the author of 15 books. He lived fast, he fell hard, and he came to with a broken head, a worthless mind, and this devastating ability to paint with words down the page. Line after line, he continues to amaze, devestate, and deviate. With lyrical prose that plow through the airwaves like kamikaze fighter pilots; with poetry that treads a fine line between brilliant and insane.... ... more

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