deepundergroundpoetry.com
Papa Rats See
Those bastard photographers
hounding me again
just for once I'd like a private moment
without the world
screaming watch this space.
I could spit in their lenses.
That picture made more than I do
in a night on stage
and on a scale of one to ten
where ten is perfect
and one is crap
I rate it a shitty two.
But never mind
that it wasn't my best side
if only they would concentrate
on my work
there'd be no talk
of a roller coaster career.
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