The False Prophets Anonymous

I’m a regular accountant during the day
But a post-abstract photographer at night
I got a big camera which scares all the birds
I know shit ’bout the physics of light

I’m a beautiful, sexy model with brains
With an I.Q. of thirty-six-C, you know?
When I paint using colours from my heart’s bottom
Just like a Picasso my canvas will glow

I’m a copyrighter who makes creative ads
But thats only till I becume a novellist
My boss fired me, but one day he’ll reapent
When I’m on the Man Booker shotlist

I am a dentist and a very skilled one, too
But my soul tells me that I’m a poet
For me rhyming with ease is like shooting the breeze
I’m sure to be a famous (soet… loet… goet?… duet?… Ah! Fuck it!)
I’m sure to be a famous… celebrity person

I manage a sales team in my hometown
But I’m a great musician, you can tell
Don’t scales measure weights? Don’t chords tie up crates?
I’m like Justin Bieber meets death metal

I’m the know it all sage in this day and age
But I’m taken for a homeless bum
I warn passers-by ’bout the end being near
But they reply, ‘Get a job, you lying scum.’

I head your Government, I run your state
But in truth, I’m your butler, I’m concerned for thee
I need you to believe that the world is flat
I’ve the God-given right to keep you from being free

~ 7^th June, 2012. Colva, Goa.

~ by Prick on June 8, 2012.