booty slapperz
DESCRIPTION
A Poetry Mixtape// by Julian Smuggles and Robert Duncan Gray. 24 poems in conversation with contemporary life and pop culture.TRANSCRIPT
BootySlapperz
P o e t r y M i x t a p e//
Rober t Duncan Gray&
J u l i a n S m u g g l e z
Nose Pickteeth boogersfalling out withmasses of gray hair
estrogen flixaccumulating dust flies
fractal forests grafting through the floor
the drowning partof your bodynow with musicalaccompanimentall bleeps and bloops
BloodYo, your old friendis a fucking damp napkin.
Somebody has to tell itlike it is.
I describe myselfnot as basedbut as super based.
The silent S in my name has been replacedby a dollar sign.
We better recognize.
Nobody knows how to pronounce $
AgapeHiccupping in high fives into open-mouthed punches
androgynous elixirspouting in the corner
go to the brilliant glitter bustwith me
It’s time for a cigarette break?What about now? now?
tooth molds plasticbrowningmandated puppy biteson your wrists
Groan ManSipping on syrupSip Sip
Sipping on syrup Sip Sip
Using killer jamsto kill killers
Sipping on syrupSip Sip
Purple drunkPurple pain
Purple drankPurple dank
Purple rainPurple purp
Semen covers semensorry for the poordance partycum covers the cum
do purchase an additional personfor the event anda shot or a beer or something
herepeople want to hearonly depressing poems
hurracaning awaypieces of fleshin letters that look likeA’sbut are actually$$$$$$$$’s
SeaNo champagnein this roomtonight.
You will allleavethis room
sadly.The hissof the refridgerator
from the windowsto the wallpaperghost ridesyour whip.
of ambition in a person I once called home
blood ona rhinestone hello kitty necklace
drop my neck onto her neck
a pink aura around her public facereligious paintingsat the mall
the prolific nature of her graying hairreveals her laugha reality only spoken inbad karaoke songstoward the end of the night
I jerk off onto the mountain
I want to be your green queenbut in this day and ageit is impossible.
A soup has beencreated byman made animals.
Humpback dump truck.Dumb wave goat spit.Sleep slow low swag.
Meat trap.Meat trapMeet Trap.
Your cellphone is singing.It’s your mother or somebody.
Mount Rrushmore Facial Selfie
Swag Swag SwagI nod in a way thatresembles bad dancing
the weeknd is playing in my head And then in the bedroom
and we dancedall illicitin a way that resembles bad dancing
the smell of burnt ringseverything a repetitionof another moment
we all commercials for one anotherare annoyingbut easily stuck in heads
KneadBreadcrumbsgather aroundyour thanks.
You’re a furin the eye,you really are.
Let’s downloadsome shittogether.
Friendsbecomecrystals.
Crystalsbecomehandclaps.
with a computer screenrecording us fuckingme aware that you are actually fucking me
l.e.d. quality as we dysfunctionthe red light to make us puppies shivering in corners
we disorders, cocoon leaves in the sheets
chat boxes from strangers pop up
ding ding ding and the sound of a cashregister closingrepeating twice
like someone is writing an indie song about usbut I want to be a rap song,a real booty slapper.
your eyes look better in dim lighting
You are dimWho cannot seethis ghoststanding herelaughing at me?
I am a kingin the desperatekitchenhiding from ridicule.
The thing I fear mostis trapped with meinside this circle of salt.
I was goingto like your post,but then I thoughtFuck it.
I was red urinejust recently magentawith green planktona kind of boring
I dyedmy shoes and socksAnd the parts of your roomI wake up in
I’ve smashed windowsWith elbows and bonerstestamentsto your masculinity
Plate TectonicsLeave me alone.I am the causeof your sadness.
The salt was my doing.I cannot apologizeif I cannot talk.
when I unzip my pantsflies crawl outeach a synchronized swimmer
you’ve peed in my bedmore times than mostwe hold facesat arms lengththe distance a queue
you put your molly into my mouth as a signifier
you put your drinks on my credit cardas a signifier
nowI’m sweatingnow
I have scabies and I am intentionally going to give you scabies.
JeanI am covered in it, drowning in denim, but there are moreimportant things.
I believe it to be true,this story of a disturbedspirit animal speakingin night terrors,
but I cannot dowhat you ask.I prefer to sufferthe dreams.
the blade of some safety scissorsto my neck
inflatable airconditioning in my shirt
I feel like an obeseversion of a Disney charactercarvedon the desktop
nobody really pays attention
I don’t want to go viral
I want to go viral
I am standing in a crowded coffee shop
ViralI have disturbedthe internet.
I am your friendin each image.
I have failed youin each video.
Miracle of moving pictures.The thin tin sounds of false food.
I want to flyI want to robwhite people soI decided to write a poem
then I bought a gunand started to rob white people
we see the white in costume suits and scarves all smiles
I don’t understand muchhe said back to meas he ‘railed’ a line of meth offthe dash of his oj simpson broncometh is way betterhe said
we can’t stop
but we still get money
I Believe in R KellyYou don’t haveanything to proveto me.
You are my spirit animal’sspirit animal.
with reinforced concreteand green screen
Your body always reminded meof a Pixar movie
the queefingof yesterday
the little godinside youletting out a sighbecause he is disappointedin melike you are disappointedin me
I want to see your dick slang
Dick Swang LowSelfiein oilon canvas.
I cry lyricsto rap songsI never wrote
teethall diamondsin your earsso I can lick you forever
You are standinglike other people are standing
disgusting
I thought to send youthe billfor this moment
I don’t want to be richin practicebut really I want to get rich
Infinite TrapI am so highI could eat a winter peach.
I got richer this morningvia e-mail.
Once you get basedyou no longer feel the need
to talk about it.I hold out my fingersand whisper
Kiss the ring.Kiss the ring.
Kiss the chain.Kiss the teeth.
Thank me.Thank me.
C o v e r b yL indsay Al l i son Ruof f
//B l u e P o e m s b yRobe r t Duncan G ra y
//Y e l l o w P o e m s b yJ u l i a n S m u g g l e z
Booty Slapperz