punk.

oh! my literary
     existentialism
bordering on despair
     my whiny and
strangulated vocals
          these towering
     synthesizers and
          guitars are
my cure

this experimental
     new wave of
reggae and ska
     is evidence of
my bad religion as
          I rise against
     the sublime, and
          no doubt birth
this clash

my adherence to
     the traditional
to the culture that
     is my heritage and
is sorely vexed
          I will use more words
     and say more things
          evidence of
my kinks

do I embrace
     this division of joy?
can I stomach the
     social distortion
of all the talking
          heads on my
     television?
          this is my nirvana,
my jam.

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