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SubtletyI don’t know what the big deal is about subtlety
Metaphor and simile, Shakespeare and Yeats
You say in poetry it conveys skill and beauty;
I say in this world, all we do is hide,
Behind a façade of sweet niceties, falsehoods, and outright lies
“Oh how nice to see you”
“Your dress is so lovely”
“My, what nice…shoes… you’re wearing”
Every word is coated in the sickly makeup of thinly veiled contempt
I once heard a lady tell her son:
“Its okay honey, you’re just big boned”
Bullshit you little grease slurping marshmallow, you’re fat
Mom, stop being an enabler, he doesn't need you to be subtle
Just tell him he’s a lard cake: “Does fatty want another Twinkie?”
Heh…and there are days I wonder why I have no friends
Regarding fashion, we pretend, we lie, we try and look away
I could insinuate that you’d look better without the ascot
Or those dumb ass shades
But why do that when I could say you look like a douche?
You call it avant-garde, I call you a tool
Now that’s what I call style;
C’est la vie, right?
But I bet we’re up front about our bodies, yeah?
I had a girl once tell me she liked the feel of my skin
As in *cough* shave *cough*
You hairy Tom-Hanks-in-Castaway-esque motherfucker
I just think I would have appreciated it more if she’d been forthright with her sentiment;
Not that gorilla-cooch was in any position to call me out on MY facial pubes
We have all these ads on TV for male enhancement
And they jokingly try to be subtle
Cialis, the right choice for all-natural male enhancement
Bullshit, let’s try that again
This pill right here?
Gets your dick hard, you impotent git
Why the fuck are you smiling so much?
Because your wife doesn’t make fun of your flaccid man-meat at cocktail parties anymore?
Really?
Nice, Bob, whatever you say, swing your “golf club” and smile
Politics is even worse; about as subtle as a shotgun wound
From the 3am phone call to
“Barack the magic Negro, lives in DC;”
Rush Limbaugh’s poorly disguised presentation of racial contempt
He's puffing the KKK magic dragon until he thinks his eyes might bleed
And manages to come up with another thing
More ridiculous than the Pineapple Express 3-way-joint
Creationism, Intelligent Design, or “fuck you to evolution”
By whatever guileful name you call it;
It’s still fuzzy math for science
We could intellectually debate this,
But it’s bullshit and you know it
Call it Genesis 101, at least you’d be honest
Like that time in 5th grade,
When you asked your sister’s friend
If you could touch her boobs
And she kicked you in the balls
Now THAT girl had integrity
Why can’t we all be that straightforward?
Imagine it:
“I’d love to tell you that it’s not you, its me; but it is you…so I think we should break up”
Or, “Does this dress make me look fat?”
“Well no…It isn’t the dress that makes you look fat…”
We’re always so afraid of hurting people’s feelings
Well forget that, I’d rather be in Iraq
Have a can of whoop-ass shoved so far up my crack
That I black out
Because I can’t hide from you what this world is really about
Feed you a simile wrapped in a metaphor
With a touch of inquisitive doubt
The world is thoroughly fucked,
Shit covered in strawberry sprinkles as viewed through purple haze is still shit
But you want to forget that
In the subtle foggy flower drug trip that you call life
So pretty and beguiled that you’re in love
Just ride that bohemian bovine turd into granola Neverland
Fuck that, I’m going to tell it how it is;
Lay it out honest in a way that even Forrest Gump could spit
My name is Flogenic and this flow comes direct
When you look at me, what you see is what you get.
© 2009 Eugene Aarons-Cooke
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