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Great Writing From A Mastermind

by The Bitter Poet

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I know you didn’t come here for Art Therapy. You came here for Great Writing From A Mastermind. I’ve got that. I blew all the money I earned from the Pizza Hut commercials on strippers in Los Angeles, Las Vegas and New York. It was a low point in my life. And I miss it very much. You just can’t beat the smell of vanilla scented body lotion wafting off the warm skin of a stranger. Great writing from a Mastermind. Like I said, I was spending a lot of time in strip clubs back in 2000 and 2001. I kept running into this tall, blonde, Midwestern beauty at Flashdancers in midtown Manhattan. A beautiful dancer was a rare sight at that particular gentleman’s club. We talked a lot during our lap dances. She was a clothing designer. But she admitted she wasn’t doing a lot of designing of clothes. She kept saying, “I’m ruined. Sydney ruined me.” By that, she meant the money in Sydney Australia where prostitution is practically legal. She couldn’t resist going there every winter to prostitute herself for the money instead of doing the work of designing clothes. “I’m ruined. Sydney ruined me.” I wanted to say, “Baby, don’t say that about yourself.” But I didn’t ‘cause I knew it was true. Great writing from a Mastermind. So there it is: I go to see a play about a crazy woman. And in the actress’ eyes and voice and body, I see Stacy. The actress was portraying a character that was bloodied, abused, tormented, crippled, disturbed, driven and feral. And in that portrayal, I saw Stacy. And I thought to myself, “Goddamn, two years, I’m not over her yet? Great writing from a Mastermind. Cool air, hot coffee, actress in my bed. God is good. Jesus Saves. Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop. My old girlfriend used to stop us outside a party we were about to walk into and say to me, “Now, when we go inside, let’s don’t hang all over each other.” It felt bad. My new girlfriend stops us outside a party we are about to walk into and silently slides her hand into mine and holds on tight. It feels good. Money everyday. Sex every night. Poetry in the morning. Liquor at lunch. Who’s the sucker now? Great writing from a Mastermind.
She’s in Brooklyn. On the 4th floor. Her apartment was robbed once. Some drunk friends left the door open. All the computers were taken. She didn’t seem to care. She just shrugged and kept rolling along. I was amazed. I would have reacted differently. For me, the storm clouds would have landed on my head And the earth would have swallowed me. Like in the bible. She shrugged and smiled. I see that and I think, “Stay close to that, hang onto that, don’t let that go.”
She bakes cakes and makes mozzarella by hand She kills crossword puzzles and buys Spanish novels at the Strand She loves drinking with her buddies at the 4 Faced Liar She says, “We’ve all slept with each other, at one time or another…” Ann Johnson from Portland She lives with her cat and her best friend a librarian They know the best bartenders in Crown Heights Brooklyn She works on the East side, her commute is express, she says, “when the 4 skips to Atlantic, it makes me wet…” Ann Johnson from Portland She’s got stage fright but her favorite holiday is Halloween Every year she goes dressed up as a Sexy Something Last year was an elephant; this year there’s no theme, just a red wig, long black gloves and a lacey little thing Ann Johnson from Portland After college she shipped all her belongings to New York by truck That truck crashed and burned on 94, she said, “Just my luck” But on her wall is one photo that survived It’s of her Mom in the woods, with her little girl by her side Ann Johnson from Portland Her apartment is opposite a convent on Saint Johns Place Jesus watches her bedroom night and day Her iPhone beeps all night with incoming texts In the morning she asks, “Wanna start the day with sex?” Ann Johnson from Portland She’s got a pierced belly button, but no tattoos When she lifts her dress and says, “Look!” It’s gonna be a bruise But nothing stops her from going to Coney Island, Screaming for joy riding downhill on the Cyclone Ann Johnson from Portland Ann Johnson from Portland And I love her, yes I love her She’s from Portland Ann Johnson
Rules are important for attracting women if you’re a young man. Always be your self, it inspires confidence You can never have too much confidence in your appearance Don’t compare yourself to others Wear the clothes and hairstyle you want to wear, A young man’s profile is just as important as his health, maybe more Don’t be afraid to be different Difference can be attractive to women who are looking for adventure She’s more likely to talk to you, if you don’t look like her father Eventually, she may end up with someone exactly like her father But for now, you could be strange enough for her to find exotic, but not threatening Go ahead, step outside the bounds, she’ll appreciate it Even if she doesn’t want date, you could be friends and share things like hair gel, advice on conditioner or anything friends might share It's the 21st century, Be Your Self! I am tall and I’m thin I wear my hair in a bun I might be vegetarian I wear my hair in a bun I got a Danish girlfriend I wear my hair in a bun A ponytail won’t do All my heroes are Hindu Sensitivity is necessary to win the trust of a young woman’s heart. Always listen, sympathize and respect her opinion She’ll appreciate that more than anything you could ever buy her Take care of your body, never get out of shape Meditation is proven to reduce the risk of stroke No young lady wants to be stuck with a vegetable In some cultures your body is considered a temple Stock your temple with incense, candles and modal music When she’s leaving after a visit bow and affect a prayer position It's a Sign of Respect Got more soul than a hipster With wear my hair in a bun You’ll never call me mister With wear my hair in a bun I’m soul mates with your sister With wear my hair in a bun Hot yoga, tai chi Capoeira, mat-based Pilates Some in our society will look down on you You may feel people are talking about you behind your back Not in urban centers where diversity is prized but in smaller towns and hamlets Don’t let this western negativity stop you from being yourself All men wish they could be Sampson All men wish the power of their hair made restraint necessary Restraint and discipline are the most masculine of all traits As is generosity and openness to nature The ideal of the western man is limiting Don’t be fooled If you want to walk this world as a Unique Person rewards will come to you Follow my advice and you will stand out The Young Man’s Guide To Being An Individual! I am tall and I’m thin I wear my hair in a bun I might be vegetarian I wear my hair in a bun I got a Danish girlfriend I wear my hair in a bun A ponytail won’t do All my heroes are Hindu Hot yoga, tai chi Capoeira, mat-based Pilates I’m samurai shogun I wear my hair in a bun


released October 31, 2013

The Bitter Poet - vocals & guitar
Words & music by The Bitter Poet (Secret Candy Music ASCAP)
Recorded in Brooklyn, NY; Mastered by Paul Gold, Salt Mastering
CD art direction by Ben Killen; Front Cover photo by KL Thomas


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The Bitter Poet Brooklyn, New York

The Bitter Poet's anti-folk, indie-rock, musical storytelling is darkly humorous, intense, gritty. His songs are honest to a fault, yet over-the-top and grandiose in the style of Tom Waits or Nick Cave.
Musically, his straight-ahead rock chords and carnival-like lyrics blend humor, pathos and outrage. He has been described as “Lou Reed meets William Shatner” and “The Doors meet Jack Nicholson.”
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