Free the Freaks

(What were you expecting? Porn or something? Get real.)

   Call it what you will; there are a hell of a lot of 
euphemisms for it, and I've heard them all:

Normalacy-impaired
Problems dealing with reality
Misunderstood
Troubled
FREAK!!!

   And they're all fairly amusing...like guinea pigs are 
amusing...but still, that's what I am...Not quite unreal, not 
quite human; I'm a freak.  And I'm okay with that.  Really. 

   I write poetry and read it to the old Beat rythms (but someone
should have told poor Julie...my God, they even closed down the
Big Sur Baths...).  School's too easy, and I want to be a Goth to
ease the boredom, but I haven't figured out how to get a Goth number
(Sad, ain't it?)  Besides, I'm too goody-goody, which I'm okay with.

                 Really.


N  o         N  o t     R  E a   L   L y.

   I'm not good at much...
That's why I write,               I assume
Or maybe that's just what I do to ease the boredom...(God, it's awful)
...
Sometimes I think it's me, then I look around...


IT'S THEM...ISN'T IT?  


           : :  g  l a  n c  e s     a  t   mi  r r   o   r  :  :

I hope my ceaseless rambling proves something to you, whether it be that 
I am indeed a real person, albeit confused, or that you may be more 
normal than you think you are.  Whatever blows your job,  man.

 And here's some poetry jun k to prove that 
I  D O N ' T  F I T  I N, and i have the poetry to prove it. =�

(oh, sure, I CALL  M Y S E L F  a Beat, but what do i know?  
oBviousLy  very   little.

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� 1999 pwr2nerds@aol.com

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