Style and flow animate the best skateboarding and poetry, two modes of communication married by NYC ripper Shawn Powers today on HENRY. Debates over whether skating is a sport, an artform, or a singularity unto itself may forever go unresolved, yet Shawn’s submission, filmed by Dollar Stories co-founder Galen DeKemper, confirms shredding as an irrefutably creative medium. The principles essential to dynamic skating—control, fluidity, improvisation, surprise—manifest in Shawn’s poems “ESPY” and “SP”, which, synced with day-in-the-life-style footage, convey urban life as experienced by a young man. Shawn liberates verse from libraries and classrooms, proving that there’s no line gnarlier than one composed in iambic pentameter.
I knew Espy sometimes.
He had a few dollars. He had a few dimes.
Then he lost his mind. Then he lost his face and he lost his skin.
The only thing left in his life were the long nights and a few sins.
Everything is so fucked up I can’t begin to begin.
Make him feel better. Give him the juice and the gin.
Now he’s on the cruise. He’s sliding smooth.
Giving all his lovers the blues.
You can’t touch him.
You can’t be him.
It’s okay. He doesn’t want to see him.
Too many cares. Too many stares.
The constant feeling that everything is unfair.
He’s all alone. There are no pairs.
Only apples that the sacred beast can spare.
Holes in his heart from the holy dagger.
In his eyes the bloody tears. His joy division has gone numb.
Everything around him seems so dumb.
Even if a thousand angels played a thousand drums
It will never sound as beautiful as the suicidal gun.
I’m a savage.
Sex and rabbits playboy bunnies and fucking are my habits.
Pussy I frequently have to have it.
In my ipod I’m only mobbing with Prodigy and Havoc.
Plus I’m from Queens so you know it’s deep.
Be careful when you grew up around me.
I’m a slick talker.
I’m so high call me Skywalker.
I’m slanging around town like I’m Peter Parker.
and the Cadillacs you know I park up.
So catch me driving around when it gets darker.
i’m more evil than the night stalker.
So Richie Ramirez you better hear this
I’m more sicker than you.
Let me demonstrate what queer is:
on my free time I rip faces out of Vogue and fuck em
I can’t talk to a bitch without imaging her sucking.
I know cash rules everything so I’m fast bucking.
Oh shit, that’s your ex girl?
Sorry I just got stuck in.
I’m also under 21 so you know I snuck in.
I got that U.K. royalty.
I cross seas and queens spoil me.
In front of kings I’m requested to recite sick poetry.
I boogie like Charlie Manson.
With mind control I’ll have your mom dirty dancing.
I murdered the Hansons.
Why you mad she never calling back?
She busy taking pictures in my Starter cap.
Sipping forties, rolling smack
eating chinese food and motherfucking Quartersnacks.