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The Outside
I hail from the town that stands on the outside,
from far reaching individuals.
Repulsive towards the one who does not belong,
shunning those on the outside.
I hail from the pantry,
that provides for those who cannot.
From corrupt cults,
imposing will above others.
I hail from snobbery,
from self righteous jocks.
Indifferent to the word “we,”
an individual who stands on the outside.
I hail from anger,
from indifference and trauma.
Bleeding desire,
to obtain what will no longer exist.
I hail from Esp,
from charged voltage screaming new life.
To pounding riffage,
from energy born on the outside.
I hail from torpid invalidity,
from vulgar deceit.
Hidden aggression,
chained to thoughts that only I know.
I hail from where you come from,
from the single beginning.
Hailing from what you are not,
and from everything you are.
Feeding on the outside.
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A poem about my interests and living in Watertown