This one is very tricky. I wrote it in Sept MMV on the 27th. It really needs to be preformed for the rhythm to get right. And even then it's got major kinks that I need to work out. Hmm. Maybe I'll do that now. It starts off as okay and then worms it's way down to bad. Must fix! I'm wondering if I should write it how it's supposed to be said, putting in pauses by starting new paras or what. Fixed it some. Will go back and do more later.

~

So as I was wasting away
in the auditorium today
(as a result of FCAT retakes
my class was displaced)
I put my knee in the way
of Bibi's silly essay.

Now all we know that Bibi's a bitch**,
and my knee put a stitch
in her sides, like a crown of thorns on her head
as she lay tossing and turning upon her death bed.

Of course that little shrew
knew exactly what to do.
She took her black pen
and stabbed the skin
on my hand, creating jagged lines
that were supposed to be signifyin'
my blood.

"Abstract expressionist," I called it
and Bibi saw it
and knew that it was good.

My blood in her handwriting
zigged and zagged, crissed and crossed,
like that painting by Jackson Pollock.

Now if my blood is abstract expressionist
and all those philosophical scientists
are right
about the Creator being reflected in the created
then couldn't it be said
that He who created my head
and my heart
and made my pulse start
is none other than Jackson Pollock?

No, He wasn't the only artist
who could have kickstarted it
but He
was
the best
and if someone were to request names?
they would hear my Man Jackson Pollock's.

Sure I'm no Autumn Rhythm or any Lavender Mist
but I insist
on being regarded as important.
And in charts of different world religions
mine may be a small part,
hidden, yes, a negligible one,
but even so
it should be known
that Jackson Pollock = God.

**Yes, I do love you, Bibi.