Poetry from Texas Fontanella

I'm just concerned about your emotional warfare, and putting the Charlie in Baudelaire 

Not racist, heaps border fears

Bought their ears

That's why your night's in arrears

As for the secret weapon, it's in our pocket

Not timeless, just rock it bored of years

I turn on the tele just for a fix of fears

Here they have the barkeep glitch our beers

Don't snitch on peers

No, put snitches on piers

Treading on thin nice try, left swipe

I don't want to live in a sci fi

Haven't moved in a year, these things moving up me, they say it's not divine

The main attraction, but still got sidekicked

So fishy they had to more real than reel us in

You can call me a wit, man, cos I lilac

You can call me a Whitlam, cos it's time

To get kicked out by the CIA

I mean CI Gay, but don't tell my wifi

I do skylines thru the eyes, chemtrails, clouds

Walk in, all the fems loud

Get the train rail off all its routes

Now when we need it, they just cough up the doubt

We don't smoke green, jist chop up the louts

Can't help, we already shot up the Galts

Why do you think we look so young for?

I've got power you can point at, but you can't dock yours

I've only got six mull in my sock drawer

I only look so I can drop jaws

I won't robocop to you any more

I won't drop you any flaws

Except the price one

A word to the high rise can't be undone

No batman bout the raves, but you can say I'm Robin

Like you don't underline what these dreams be costing

I'm getting plaid by Ryan Gosling

So it's myself on the red

Carpet I'm accosting

So few memories

I chuck myself out the pub was getting too rowdy

Pack up my things say howdy 

Order up a beer relight the bounty

 kindle my ounces and single my prouder

Movements out on TV

Units back from Jon doe ray me

Jumped from hand into my mode de vie

And from there, into my ode to me

And my shadows are irritable again

Can't understand I'm not my friend

sallows my cheeks, second elderhood

But the youth I'm shooting says there's hell to prove

 Only rules I like the ones the dead flout

So I guess that's why you had me at get the fuck out

Queen of Odds

So close to me like the cure

So closed to me like the future 

Closer it gets the looser the thread 

we cut the loser instead - that me

Choose you over life; you make me happy

When skies are out of service

And the winds are getting blabby

Just as we do, and did last night

Are you sure we didn't do this in a past life?

We ask nice and the ocean lets us surfers

Float instead of sink somehow 

shear the shore winks to make us go wow

try to make clouds treetops won't kowtow 

Everything about you is pow wow bow wow 

Just flowers me thinking, like, our souls're grouse foul

you be my perso climate change

Get me glitching all the whys away

With greenhouse gas lines

We need replace, but 


lacking, time too

 Sick coal still too powerful

Must est there; bower's full

Hours neither heat nor cool now

lost compass

meaningless, sour

flip flops clip clop on the way home from the drowse 

I'm deconstructed away from you

Remodernist me, babe

Frack modest

Tee it up - you truly, madly, deeply think these rhymes are proper gay 

But so are you - I got you, bae

And without warning, the coffee plate spins out of control absent of intervention

And we console ourselves with what? Yawning indecision?

Bring bring listenings no bring bring listen

Oh, it's Sly? Tell em I said die

Like the weather changes. Concrete's quicksand 

Whooshes the kitchen back to us

Some kind of catalyst to see what matters to me 

 Say can't cap a way free

But actually, if you and me….

Bloodbath valley, guts to rally, no dilly dally, gashed up alley, one cashed up sally, who taking the tally?

But sometimes, just sometimes, you can be a wee illuminasty

Shut up and farm me 

Am I a terrorist

for planting heroin in the president's office?

For insulting old codgers with my eloquent doctrines?

For inviting riots to decry it all the president's options? 

I'm intelligent often, I'm the resident boffin, I'm selling your coffins, inventive

a god send me down to change the face of rap (crap),

now whenever we play they claptrap back

to the clawing, bored and faded

the drawing board was always awesome jaded

I'm bold and brain-dead

Sold out and tasteless

Must have the language virus

Eating up an anguished iris 

I'm very good at dissection

Highly likely I will die sectioned

On the outside in 

We let the bouncers

Spin them away from daggitude 

You don't have to do with it a dagger, dude

Looks like crazy

Pfft, you should see the streets that staged me