"In The Wrong Game"

You love Eminem
Not to be confused
With the sweets.
Which in my day
Were called 'Treats'...
Nothing like the American poet
With his rapping and beats
Which I don't call music
I think he cheats.
I can rhyme
It ain't no crime
Passes the time
Doing fine
Words all mine.
But a rapper I ain't
Just a poet.
Which is why Eminem
Is a millionaire
With me not having the
Proverbial pot to piss in
Doing five minute
Open Mic slots
In front of forty people
On a good night
At the Poetry Cafe
Rather than Eighty thousand
In Twickenham rapping
Most with their camera phones
Hero worship papping.
Maybe there's something in that
White Man Nigga Eminem shit after all.

Dulwich Poet 30th August 2018

(Wrote this after the constant playing of Eminem tracks by a young mate of mine, when I get a lift in his car.)