A Poem: "Richard Bachman Tina Turner Overdrive"
Richard Bachman Tina Turner Overdrive
by Chris La Vigna (@Chris_LaVigna)
"May a thousand apocalyptic sirensSing me to sleep
I can’t be held responsibleFor what happens otherwise
Condemned to roam the chasmBetween calling and cravingEvoking a certain style of desperationFor maximum engagement
These electric eldritch abominationsWon’t let me die
I’m the closest you’ll ever get to a heroYet I’ve stolen so much
Love simulationsRage amplificationsResonance, dissonance, dissidence, decay
I can give it all awayFor the proper price
Video violenceStretching the bandwidth
Your identity restsOn how much you can take
I’m the closest you’ll get to a heroBut I can’t save you
Too busy staringInto a time loop mirrorBirth, growth, rotBirth, growth, rot
Ad infinitumAd nauseam
Still figuring out the difference
All I know is:
Legacy Is A Lie
Pull out your teethExamine the cavitiesSmile with bleeding gums
Your identity restsOn how much you can fake
Let me be the bastard you loveTrading nightmaresTo keep gin stocked in my freezer
I have a million cheap monster masksFor all possible permutations of personality
Burnt reelsBent notesI live in the spacesNo one cares to fill
I’m the closest you’ll ever get to a heroYet you set me ablaze
Shouting
We don’t need another heroWe need a covenA consortium
A consensus on proper conductWhile appropriating witchcraft
You are the children of the witches they couldn’t burnI am the spawn of the demon they praisedWiping soot from their faces
I’m the closest you’ll ever get to a heroBut my backstory keeps rebooting
Spastically dancingIn an interrogation roomI’m nobody
I’ll keepCrashing carsChanging names
To make my mythYour truth
Long liveThe mutant wunderkindWho kept on brandingUntil his cult sold itself"© Chris La Vigna 2021
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