post modernist poetry

Best Read in Voice of “Claptrap” from Borderlands “on Wee-e-e-e-e-d” (half baked reference remix not included but sold seperately at an inflated and ridiculous, almost Avatar like, price)

Welcome to Meta-Mart!
Your one-stop shop for all your reference needs!
Ash in house wares will show you around!

How about some nice Krueger Sheers for the missis?
No? Something less ghastly perhaps,
have you tried the Beetle-juicer plus diet pro?

Welcome to Meta-High!
The première educational facility, for future reference!
Classes offered this semester include:
“Ridgemont to Breakfast Club: the study of hallways as leading motif”.

Welcome to Meta-Poem!

Where this poem stops, looks around,
examines the competition,
and self-immolates on page while blasting
Rage Against the Machine wearing only
Alice’s best laid Chains!

Welcome to the end of the Matrix.
Welcome to Thunder dome.
Welcome to Wendy’s.

Welcome to Go Fuck Yourself!

and

Thank You,
come again.

(in the voice of Apu but a robot.)

Welcome to my left foot,
in harm’s way
up your ass.

Welcome to the Lone Ranger
finally pissing Tonto off enough
that he just eviscerates his skull
with a blunt weapon, around the fire
now,
his shitty, soppy blood trickling into the flames,
being eaten and spit back into the world as smoke,
rising into this very poem,
in this very moment,
welcome to the City of Light.

Please, enjoy your stay.
(in the voice of the Vancouver Skytrain,
or the countdown to self destruct voice of Alien)

Welcome to the evolution of the side kick,
into the arch-nemesis.

Welcome to the Mass reading aloud of your enemies,
your every weakness,
your each subtle neurosis,
your constant need to reference movies,
your empty stomach filled with good, Irish drunk bravery,

and your last, sketchy attempt at infamy.

Welcome to finally using your time wisely.

Now get off my stage.

I have something to burn,
somewhere to be.

Another vague fucking reference to ensure
you don’t get
too far off
into that forest-

modern/post.

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