Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother’d had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: “My name is ‘Sue!’ How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!”
Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a’ gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.
I tell ya, I’ve fought tougher men
But I really can’t remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin’ at me and I saw him smile.
And he said: “Son, this world is rough
And if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn’t be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you’d have to get tough or die
And it’s the name that helped to make you strong.”
He said: “Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn’t blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I’m the son-of-a-bitch that named you “Sue.’”
–lyrics, ”A Boy Named ‘Sue’”, Shel Silverstein, 1969.
I’m all strung-out, and, my money’s spent
Can’t really tell ya’ where last year went
But, I’ve given up paying my bills for Lent
My landlord, he says he wants his rent
Fuck ‘em!
Hey, now, the women they come, the women they go
The hens start to cackle when the cock starts to crow
Hell, I take ‘em in when the warm winds blow
But, I boot ‘em in the ass once it starts to snow
Cause, fuck them!
Yeah, got a letter from my folks, and, they say they’re in debt
They say that things are as bad as they can possibly get
Y'know, I haven’t answered that letter yet
I might use it to light my cigarette
Cause, fuck them!
What’d they ever do for me anyway?
Threw me outta the house when I was twenty-nine years old
And cut off my allowance
Fuck ‘em!
Hey, a woman come around and handed me a line
About a lot of little orphan kids sufferin’ and dyin’
Shit, I give her a quarter, cause one of ‘em might be mine
Yeah, the rest of those bastards can keep right on cryin’
I mean, fuck kids!
Throw up on your shoulder, piss in your lap, Never give you nothing
Fuck ‘em!
I had a fight last night with a big lumberjack
I spent most the fight laying flat on my back
You know he beat me up fair, and, that’s a fact
But, I busted his head as soon as he turned his back
Cause, fuck “fair fighting”!
Yeah, y'know, my junkie buddy got the shakes again
He give me five bucks and sent me out in the rain
I’m supposed to bring back something to kill his pain,
heh, hehAw, shit! I took the bread and I jumped on a train’
Cause, fuck junkies!
Menace to society, break into your house, steal your TV set And go pawn it, and stick up gas stations,
then wanna get rehabilitated right next-door to you
Fuck them!
Hey, I caught a cold, I’m chilled and wet
And, I’m coughing blood, and I’m short of breath
And at the foot of my bed sits Old Man Death
He says: “ Hey Shel, ” he says, “ ain’t you ready to go yet? “And, I says… ” You’re the Devil’s favorite pet! “ And, I says…"He’s waitin’ for ya…And, you’re late…"And I says:
“FUCK HIM! LET THE MOTHER WAIT! I GOT THINGS I AIN’T DONE YET, AND BILLS I HAVEN’T NOT PAID! I GOT PEOPLE I AIN’T BAD TALKED AND I GOT CHICKS THAT I HAVEN’T KNOCKED UP AND LEFT YET! I’VE GOT things TO DO…PLACES T’ GO…. PEOPLE T’ DO!HA HA-HA-HA!…”
How’s that?
–”Fuck ‘Em”, Shel Silverstein, 1970.
the thing is, shel silverstein absolutely was the sort of stoned maniac who would gladly murder you with a broken glass bottle and throw you to a shark. he was just also the dude who’d make you coffee and give you a blanket and a couch to sleep on while you tried to get yourself sober, and it’s in his latter line of thinking about, you know, people that he ended up deciding kids needed poetry to enliven their screwy days just as much as the screwy adults he usually wrote for did, and because he was good at it (and because nobody pays attention to folk singers anyway so his recording career went unremembered by all but the singers and engineers and producers who worked in the studios with him), that’s what he’s known for today.
obviously, at 30k notes, someone else has pointed this out before me, but i imagine most of the people following me, especially those mutuals i’ve seen this from already, haven’t seen that person’s post, lost as it probably is in those aforementioned thirty thousand notes. so it bears repeating!
vaporwave
blakekathryn
kianamaiart
izzy806
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gummygunk
