You will never see me perform my poetry
On America’s Got Talent.
Ellen DeGeneres won’t
Read this poem and invite me to
Los Angeles, California to be
“Filmed in front of a live studio audience.”
No, these aren’t Hollywood words.
They haven’t been botoxed or airbrushed.
My stanzas have not had the meaning
Lipo-sucked out of them
For mainstream media consumption.
No, these words are not beautiful.
They are raw and red and pockmarked
With the thoughts I’ve collected
As I’ve lived my own
You won’t see these words on the cover
Of Vogue or Seventeen.
Because these words, these rhymes
Are too real for TV
Uncensored, uncut, unfiltered
Exposed like an episode of TMZ.
So if you do see these poems,
They will be hidden behind
The black bar of a censor,
Not Valencia or X-Pro.
Someone let George Carlin know
There'll be way more than seven filthy words
Once I get on TV.