"practically nobody"

 

you know

practically nobody

enjoys any of that

stream of self-consiousness

(shit)

poetry

that people are always reading at them

when they go to the Greenmill

they end up not bein' able to concentrate

and orderin' more drinks

and talkin' to some people

standing next to them

hoping maybe they'll get laid

and saying something like

isn't that guy pathetic

no wonder he's a poet

'cause you know

everybody practically

writes poetry

but it takes a special kind of

antihyperpseudosexalintellectual

love for people

to wanna open up infront of hundreds of them

about some problems with your penis

sometimes

you'll just

pay attention

for a couple seconds

like when

somebody gets introduced

and says something like

this is a language poem

and you sit there

thinkin' what's a language poem?

and then Lois brings you a pint of Schlitz

and a shot of Wild Turkey

and Raf comes on and says

fuck fuck fuck

and everyone goes home

intellectually enlightened