Yo
bro
mofo and showgo
hobo and toe.
Mo nizzle
izzle pizzle
and toilet swizzle.
Ing ta da bling
gots ma thing
caching fo ringading ging
no ring
po-ding mah french
ya wench and bench
clenc ma buttcheeks
you freek peeks at
eain 2 meny steeks
boo you foo Mista Magoo
who ah you?

What is dead may never die!

*Written by Nick Hale and James P. Wagner

Every now and then, I stumble upon some poetry that blows my mind, that's too good to not share. There's a video that has been bombarding my Facebook wall for a few days now. I've lost count of how many times I've seen this video shared by my friends. In fact, you have probably already seen the video I'm talking about. The video in question was of slam poet Neil Hilborn performing his poem "OCD" in the finals of the 2013 Rustbelt Regional Poetry Slam.

My first reaction to this video was "wow, I wish I was there." I could almost feel the energy through the screen. Much of the poem's power comes from Hilborn's performance. My second reaction was "I need to find out more about this guy." 

A quick google search led me to the publisher of his second chapbook, his Tumblr, and more great videos. I had a hard time deciding which other videos to share. Here are a few for your enjoyment.

I look at the world and I see:

Fortuitous
Gratuitous 
Alleged Improbability
Dichotomy of Trajectory
A Voluptuous Vasectomy
Proliferate the Proletariat Pundit
and Postulate the Mastication
of Emasculated Menstruation
A Treatise on Diabetes
A Mélange of Misanthropic
Misogyny. 

Orangutan, Unscrupulous, Ambidextrous
Obstreperous, Vociferous
Ocelot.
Evangelized, Pasteurized
Conflagration
Kerouac and Kevorkian
Attempted to Enlighten
Our Trepidatious Observations of our
Administration. Acute, Intrepid Ostracization
of Acumen. An Impetuous, Calamitous,
Deciduous
Barbecue.

I Something

“I Palindrome I”
threatens my playlist.
I, the speaker, am
asking you nicely:
Throw away your old copy of
I Robot,
Listen  to the sound of
my voice!  Abandon your belief(s)
in I Ching.
I think “ergo sum.”
Some therefore, I think,
don’t appreciate the I of
my eye.

I Ching can’t tell you
what the Eye
has already seen.
I rob others of
their I with my eye and they
to me in return.  Now turn, 
face me.  I, the speaker, know:
I and no one else.
This ends now, and now begins this,
“I Palindrome I.”