Freddogg Off The Chain

Rap is poetry and as such it really sucks. There is little reason behind the rhymes whether they are written down then rapped or laid down freestyle which is some kind of Ivy League vines on the rowhouse facade ghetto status symbol.

I received the ultimate accolade in the classroom once when I circled the room rhyming everybody’s name with some personal personality characteristic causing one young man to canonize me as “A Rhyming Somebody.”

But snobbish white people who do poetry can’t hope to land a piece in the “New Yorker” if they rhyme every line because that’s just so low class and so ghetto yo!

“I fell on my ass in the wet grass and the neighbors all laughed as they drove past.
To my feet I did aspire to catch their cats and set them on fire.”

How did so many “poets” find such an appreciation for the ecological machinations of the planet and solar system to look without to find the solitary person within who runs so silent and oh so deep? Somebody please give my sensibilities a break and keep me away from these snobby bastards fattened on too much leisure time for contemplation. Get a job!

“A pigmy hippo named Defillipo lived in the zoo just to entertain you. He’s a fat, low down, wallowing slug, when the moat dries up, he lies in the mud. His tail spins around following by a sound, as he evacuates, what he just ate. Just watch him, you moron, who has nothing better to do, because in many ways, he’s a mirror of you.”

High school kids love to write poetry then pay money to have it published in an anthology that absolutely no one will ever open much less read. They write of love and death and relationships and most of it is as sickening sweet as saccharine or as depressing as a rainy Monday morning as puffs of dark clouds rumble overhead crashing into each other like dirty pillows in an industrial sized dryer down at the Puerto Rican Laundromat.

I always wanted to sponsor a "Fred's Poet Society" club where people come together once a week and read original poems out loud as other poets eagerly await thier chance to perform. "You think that sucks Fredman wait until you hear mine."

Peace Poetic Fred-Doggie-dogg