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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3667 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention My Mentor is an Autistic Kid John Hilty My mentor is an autistic kid Who uses unmapped regions of his brain To write pop songs about Clowns crying in the rain And other velvet monstrosities Usually relegated to porta potty graffiti But he comes up with the most eloquent colloquialisms And his hyperbole is usually quite fetching But it’s really the discussions afterwards that hit me the hardest When he explains the intrinsic value of his musical output And why we delve so deep into the caput Moose hoof stance Every time we’re on stage It’s another new dance He creates with the grey area That’s supposed to memorize table settings In emily post’s banquet hall But samuel becket directed the rockettes In a cathartic carpeted crap shoot Maps get diluted The topographical map jerks blind kids off The most amorous Braille soliloquy Ever offered as an IPO And sometimes We practice in his crawl space Cuz the acoustics are amazing You should hear an autistic carsick Reverb addict drive home that nail gun Until the catsick is hanging off Half cracked bricks And randomly accrued chicken digits From late nite dim sum giblets The most phenomenal enclosure for the synthesizer’s Mesmerizing sound waves Causing ben franklin to rise from his grave And give me a high five But he called me dave Anyway, Some weekends Me and this autistic kid We go to the ravine And fish for trout Sometimes he’ll hum melodies And I’ll write some words about How his brain is unmapped so he can write pop songs Cuz his mom played prince through bang and olufsen uterus accouterment Plus hall and oates gets grimy During the midnight hours The sour patch kids you can’t really give to the moving guy as a tip And as we sung our aaron carter breakbeat Stellar wedding proposals, The fish would rate us In a sardonic Chelsea-esque manner Like simon cowell Or paula abdul’s thumb nail I’ll lick the blood off I like animated wolves too And then at the end of the day When the sun was setting on Our babbling brook; Crooked stream of delicately laid Rumble strips, We’d pick the best song based on the fish’s Rating and release a 7 inch the same week Once kids found out he was autistic It was like sacajawea Fridays all over again (Wooden nickels at the north? Or is Dicky rockin' heroin Like wobbly filo dough) The shoddy masons Tried to steal my master copies Of the 8 track recoding sessions That launched quadriplegic records All quadrupeds are invited And cicada misnomers can get stuck in the wheelbarrow But the locust is welcome The falconer has given up training canaries As carbon monoxide alarms Instead I made a rubber band from their beak collagen And called it “our new single” Autistic kids make the best music Because they killed themselves before they were born And returned on earth As a partially aborted fetus With a maligned heart beat And cranial facilities Far beyond my capacity The result is magical catastrophes Verbatim dissertations on how to go sleep properly So you’ll wake up just as Balki is dunking the young sheep’s legs Into the rice pudding like it’s a condiment or something He was a little idiot savant with that whole toothpick counting thing But it really amounts to who has more space of their brain reserved for unmapped pop song dental dams The pop smear in your Matthew Barney shower curtain Once the fog sets in, I’ll know who to anoint Don’t let me down… |
