I Can Play the Pencil Like a Mothafuckin' Riot I draw with words,
paint with rhymes
water-color with alliteration
shade with metaphors,
so you’ll never see me
as a Jackson Pollock screaming one misplaced drop of paint
or lamenting a mysterious absent streak
throwing fits of red rag just as he
throws red paint every which way
turning over tables as he
turns out canvasses burning with
genius.
You’ll see me,
Richard Platypus
raving inspontenuity
as I throw fits and plunge into bits of
episodal psychosis of my own
because I need to, like any artist
make images and truths
I do with pens, pencils, or a word processor
what can be done with brushes and stencils
and violins, drums or guitars
so gimme a keyboard n’ I’ll write you a pretty picture,
said I can play the pencil like a mothafuckin’ riot