And for the main attraction...

Jenna Meyer
This was my revolutionary manifesto proclaiming indroginous belief behind feminity’s chauvinism.
My pen was my sword, held high above my head--strong --fierce--conan the barbarian
My pad was the shield- against the
	Warmonger Capitalists
	All the oppressive machines chewing, using, spitting out the best 			of my generation
	Lying administrators
To protect the 
	Oh    press   ease

And my message would sting
Like        getting           hit
With          a big            wiffle
Bat of justice and poignant ideas
Never seen. Never conceived 
By             such a          people.
Life           will             unravel
Within the closing stanza where 
In which

YOU CAN ALL DIE      happy

My words will flow like milk and honey…
My words will flow like booze and cheap insincere lines

I will touch masses
I will touch gold
I will touch taboo

I will to Dickinson like Svetlana be to Stalin
But more akinned in heartmindbodyandsoul
The main ingredients in an artistslashpoet


I will acquire great taste in the finery of life
After my word spreads
My minions gather
My realm devours

The ink will break the links of conformity
The paper…the pulp…will contain the unwritten volumes
And between the lines
(where only the clergy and insane and diluted find the meaning I didn’t intend to put in but forgot to take out)
Will sing the song of the nations
Not only of America
	O, Hear How I Hate Walt Whitman

Remember my name now
Note my pen-my sword
Mark my pad- this glorious shield
Heed my words- the definition of the times

Now all will come my way
When I make creativity my slave
And get inspired…
				It will happen
(soon, just    you    wait!)