Michael Jackson
michael jackson
by shawn misener
They all go from geniuses to freaks
emerging from brilliant white closets
to faces painted white
they all go from geniuses to freaks
They pop out of nowhere like stray bubbles
and linger like steel memories around our heads
always there to hold and caress
when we need to feed, to talk about the others
stray bubbles shot from an imaginary flesh cannon
They recklessly dangle their babies from balconies
and dance on limousines at their own child molestation trials
and under the knife they squeeze themselves tight
allowing their souls to recklessly dangle
They die and drop from the stratosphere
to a thud that shakes the earth
and a huge splash of teardrop
as they drop straight from the stratosphere
Truly off the wall man… Coordinated like a moon-walking Jack the Ripper word-freak scuttlebutting funky lines in the grooves of rise-and-fall Pepsi doo-fire biography. You sum it up so damn good, I have to say: “You’re bad!”
I’m not a MJ fan, so you’re not going to offend me by insulting the guy who’s led an absurd and tragic life. The poem’s pretty good. There’s a lot of good lines in here. But I got to say, you’re not saying anything meaningful.