The Sunday Letters Journal

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Audience
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Audience

This verse needs some introduction. I must admit first, that yes, the language contained might be abrasive to some. However, some of the…

Larry G. Maguire
Sep 20, 2019
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Audience
sundayletters.larrygmaguire.com
black and white image of an audience for poem by Larry G. Maguire titled “Audience”

Photo by Zuza Gałczyńska on Unsplash

This verse needs some introduction. I must admit first, that yes, the language contained might be abrasive to some of you. However, some of the words I have chosen are for very specific reasons. Others chose themselves. Certain references are obvious, others are not. It’s meant to be performed within a particular stage setting so I’m not sure how it will be interpreted by the reader. However, I’ll lay it out nonetheless. It was inspired by someone, in particular, maybe you can see who that was and understand the source of inspiration.

Motherfuckers

Cocksuckers

Look at you, all dolled up, rash

Pockets filled with cheap cash

Poised for overpriced piss, tinder hookers in real life pornhub flicks

Cunts

Stupid cunts

You come here to hear, to see me?

For what?

For an hour to escape your pain and distress

In a bottle of gin and an inch of tinfoil - you’re a mess

But you pretend, you do it well

Best actor in the place

Disgrace

To Mam, Dad, Big Other

Who expected more but you couldn’t deliver

Instead, you came here to see me

And in a couple of hours, you’ll be

On the floor, quiet, no more

Fuck’n whore

Whore for the drink, you think

A little light entertainment just for a while and let the voice inside subside

Stupid cunts

Runts

From the bottom of the sac to the audience now

Little other

sure, go ahead, have another

Drink

I’ll entertain you for a while

But understand you cannot hide

Not form me, I know who you are

Like me, pretend for a while

Lost behind a fake smile, pulled, forced from a dark heart

Drink, be entertained, stupid cunts

Charles would be proud

Ahh, cheers, applause, what a wonderful piece, or not

Who gives a fuck!

Release

Not for you, I couldn’t care in the least

Hang around, see you later, have another

Repress poor crater sent down little other

But you can’t escape me

I’m here forever

Thanks for taking the time to read my stuff. Every morning you’ll find me sharing a new thought on life, art, work, creativity, the self and the nature of reality on The Reflectionist. I also write on The Creative Mind. If you like what I’m creating, join my email list to receive the weekly Sunday Letters

You’ll also find me here

My Site ¦ Twitter ¦ The Larb Podcast

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