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.