Johnny Prozac is an overexposed
roll of French cinema ennui stereotype.
His hometown is full of stoners.
Guess they’re bored too.
They should’ve been taught
moderation in health class.
Johnny Prozac goes to a show,
finest leather on sleeveless.
No ear plugs because
he’s just a fan. Between sets, the background beats
blast loud enough to be their own band.
Chicky next to him bitches to the bouncer
about the new smoking ban,
like he was grounded for not cleaning his room.
so he don’t hear too good no more.
He has to crank headphones to find
lost secrecies in low frequencies.
Maybe he’ll go skiing next weekend.
I would really appreciate some feedback and criticism on this one, if anyone cares to.
2 comments:
I liked the way it flows, and it reminded me of my home town. and the end, to me at least, is detatched, but it works. it's like a stream of conscious (spelling?) Any how, I like it.
I liked the way it flows, and it reminded me of my home town. and the end, to me at least, is detatched, but it works. it's like a stream of conscious (spelling?) Any how, I like it.
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