::04:04:08::

::: Chelsea Half King :::

F*ck it
Nothing
All the good sh*t
Call it beautiful,
Is f*cking dead

A poet?
What the f*ck is that?
Put on your diving bell
Write a screenplay
At least the outline for one
Maybe that is useful but who cares

Art?
It fluttered away
Gone
Reality and abstraction are the same
Insane, but all we have now

Embrace it,
Yourself
Save your pink granite
For Louise Bourgeois
Your Toucan Sam
For rainbow Chelsea
Keep your tongue
Behind your teeth apart
Even in this
Contemporary Art Circus Century

Mad hatter, badges, brawn
Halters and helmets
Snaking the beautiful
Free opening wine song
But really, f*ck it
Nothing.

Jesus f*cking Christ!
Uniforms and security cameras
Recording themselves with the regulars!
I just want to take a piss in private
But here I am
Spinning generics
With half of Basquiat’s Crown
Left rusting
To my Schnabel
Crockery head

I want to wear glitter
Because I can in this America
Me?
The author?
What you read is not necessary
Necessarily my personal opinion
It is just the possibility
Of a still life
Or portrait
A slice
Of maybe
Nothing at all

A funeral passes the bar
I am isolated by choice
There is great courage
In the glass before me
Or just an excuse for the voice?

The classic and quantum space
Of Van Gogh’s poolroom
Is an everyday occurrence
Here in the Half King
Here for high neurotics

Written by: ~ J.D. Szalla

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