What do you have to say, you ****? Put it in poetry. If I've shocked you I just want you to know that last tuesday the clerk at the bank shook my hand, because this is art, and I'm not like this when I talk, when I walk, or when I pull words out from the gutter like a street-walker, some loser who screams "It's a defence mechanism, so ******* sue me!" If I saw you in real life I promise you wouldn't recognize me, I'm plain and innoffensive. I wouldn't wake anyone up, open anyone's eyes,
so that's what this ******* poem is for. It's your wake up call, so open yourΒ Β eyes and look for the beauty you'd see if you weren't deaf and blind to it all. This is an ugly ******* poem, but it's meant to be- I want you to look up, look out your window down to a book or down at your hands and see something beautiful, and unlike this ******* poem. I want you to hate this ******* poem, and let you love something that, before, you never knew you could love.