gazed upon the grand recite
on her noble stage
her kitchen floor

and you were full to the brim
with passion and effort
lo, you really tried to impress
impress everyone to think
you are worthy of an audience

and the three of us clapped
your ideas did strike
but after three beers and a few moments
your aglio e olio impressed us better

and i stayed for the afterparty
a guttered you in a cold warm couch

and you were too tired to impress
but nontheless you spoke
of fictions and literatures
and your very own life

and made it so
i couldn't tell
which was which
did you really live a life
of magic and splendor
in far off lands
with far off people

i am not the brightest
i am simple
i cheer when something is loud

but i digest
the simple things
to get from them
the nutrition
overanalyzed
nutrition

i liked it
when you said
you were going to change the world

i liked it better
when you said
i think the pasta's too spicy

i learned to love
another drunken poet
through a babbled prose

well, maybe i'm just lazy
to appreciate your effort
or tired
or drunk

but either way
i like you better

without the stanzas