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 your 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.