(Don’t Burn Out Your Empathy [for Kurt Cobain])

We passed along the stair & danced.

You spoke into my life & saved

me from the hands of preppy sycophants.

At the time I thought I’d had my chance.

I’d given up on happiness, thought of death & nearly caved.

We passed along the stair & danced.

You came to me in a dream or a trance.

We went to space & I needed the escape.

Better this than a lobotomy or joining the sycophants.

I put together zines & displayed my rants

& my poems for you, you beyond the grave.

We passed along the stair & danced.

I’ve grown less & less afraid of holding my stance

in the face of jeering eyes, mocking smiles & fake praise.

I am sorry you lost your mind & life to media sycophants.

I hope you come back like so many fire ants.

I’ll transform into a brown recluse & join your furious wave.

We’ll pass along the stair & dance

& bite the hands of sycophants.

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