Chest Intellectual Puffing by Ian Rand McKenzie

iPhone Alarm Rap

I'm coming up with all these stupid silly rhymes
Yeah, I'm doing it pretty much all the damn time
But all these rappers rap like they're from mars
(laughing) While I struggle to keep up with these simple bars
All these performers accuse appropriations
But I'm not an inventor with my creations
And you know, science is what finds all of our truths
Engineers use discovery to sell to youths
We get modern comforts like electricity
Or social media razing society
Hold up, that is 'raze' with a z and not an s
English is so damn confusing, I must confess
That's probably partly why we are in this mess

Sexual Architecture

I feel so at odds
With your concrete reinforcing rods
I feel just like
A load-bearing dyke

My feelings aren't what they seem
Once I look at your big steel beam
You're like a seductress
With your thrust out buttress

My heart roamed aimlessly
Until I saw your masonry
Loving you a million
Looking at your pavilion

My heart is set on fire
Looking at your gothic spire
My desire needs no proof
Simply see my eyes looking at your thatched roof

Putting my loins in a fuss
Gazing upon your truss
I can no longer carry on this charade
As I look past your facade

Red Pill

oh what a pity
oh what a shame
got lost in the city
got lost in the game

oh what a tragedy
won't be the same
went from a comedy
to untameable flame

oh what a loss
that i'll never regain
a fateful coin toss
to another ego slain

Limousine Predator

I prefer cola
That’s what he said
But I do know
He’d rather give head

I invite him into my limo
And offer him a treat
So I whip out
My big long bull teat

He says no thanks
But I don’t take no for an answer
Little did I know
He’s a gun-slinging dancer

He says he’s been tracking me
For a few days
That he’s going to put an end
To my predator ways

I let out a big
Guffaw, ha ha ha!
Then he put a bullet in my head
Straight through my split open maw

21 Love Salute

Sleep deprivation
Unconsciousness starvation
That is my libation
In this capitalist nation

I sit at this workstation
Solving complications
Designing my creations
For under-appreciations

So I pivot to recreation
With the expectation
Of mental elevation
Of finding inspiration

But much to my frustration
A victim of manipulation
And sociopathic exploitation
I learn my limitation

My thoughts reach congregation
To unhealthy, sad obsession
Of rebellious elimination
And dragon execution

Fortunes without taxation
Raping vegetation
Privacy violation
Total domination

Old slaves, new plantation
Excess waste met with celebration
Public displays of discrimination
Kill people, pay the corporation

Destroy all regulation
Ignore the radiation
Shallow words of conservation
Performative participation

Masked representation
Of diverting investigation
Distorting examination
Falsifying information

‘For the children,’ their declaration
While sowing indoctrination
Abominating civilization
Calling it innovation

I reach for ammunition
Prepare for liberation
Seek out their termination
Much to my degradation

In my self assassination
I made the estimation
Blood is not my destination
So began my transformation

Letting go of the perpetuation
Of self-induced isolation
Reducing confrontation
Let go of my reservations

Begin my emancipation
With meditation
Eliminating temptation
Ego naked, sans-humiliation

I harness my fixation
On reconciliation
And consolation
For my close affiliation

Continue meditation
Breathe through fluctuation
Float in my constellation
Rethink my habitation

Focus on adoration
And reparation

The land of anger, we’re in emigration
Without hesitation
With full dedication
Ceasing hate’s confrontation

Honesty, our vocation
Love, our vibration
Theresa, our imitation
Lifting others, our intoxication

Open hearts, our retaliation
Our opinions meet annihilation
Our connection is rejuvenation
Our reformation meets ovation

From suffocation to jubilation
Disassociation to unification
Malformation to augmentation
Love kindling to conflagration

Create? Just Don’t

Don’t fix it if it ain’t broke
Don't write it if it once wrote
Don’t paint it with one coat
Don't design it if it got bloat
Don’t film it if for just any folk
Don’t play it if it ain't woke
Don't joke it if it don't poke
And don't create it if it ain't bespoke

mood: moody

nail polish: black
skin: pale
diet: anemic
mood: moody
meds: flushed down the toilet
music: angelspit
cocaine: uncut
i'll see you on the other side (of the suburbs) don't try to stop me now i need my disapproving father's attention


The clouds in the sky
The rage in my soul
The band named Tool
And the gal named Lizzo

Salvador and
Savory foods
With lots of greens

The people I love
The people I hate
Endless running away
From what I think is my fate

The lore of old
The learning that makes it new
It's real, I'm told
Who knows if it's actually true

A fool's errand I sought
No matter, it serves a way
To create new thoughts
For ideas to form, shape, and stray

Broken Bodies

My bones creak
As I remember the siren shriek
I was lured to rocky shores
We shared similar chores

Keeping our bodies clean
And our muscles lean
Our minds clear
Fighting fear

Her body was broken, but no one knew
Nor did she, awareness so few
And as mending began
I started to scan

My body is broken too
Absent awareness, through and through
Her pain from unknowing
Mine from overglowing

So here we are together
Skin becoming leather
Kin, we are, for the better
Yet another love letter


They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Some like women thin, some like them bolder
I must admit, my partner is small
But she's the type of woman that make civilizations rise and fall

We think like kings
And live like peasants
My worldview is from a mountain
Hers, from another plane of omnipresence

My mind is shackled and lit on fire
By my ego and endless desire
Her mind shackled in an entirely different vein
Caged by flesh and bone and brain

A treasure revered by the likes of the kings of Saudi
Her mind is imprisoned by her very own body
Calculating all that once was, and all that will be
Her words and motions, slower than growing a White Cedar tree

Of course, that's as far as she's concerned
But before my eyes, brilliance is churned
Never borrowed and always returned
A clockwork typeset, perfectly kerned

And as I stare into her eyes, as blue as a Hindu deity
I instantly plunge into the eternity
Lost to the ages, yet returned so sprightly
From a loving, divine, gravitational well of blissful insanity

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Do you normally dislike poetry? Me too! It turns out I like writing it, but I cringe at the thought of the stereotypical puffy culture surrounding it. If I want to smell my own farts all day, I stuff my belly with garlic and onions, thank you very much.

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