Tucked in the stack of to-be-processed periodicals, the new Poets & Writers cover surreptitiously screams like Van Gogh post-ear something about where O where can my inspiration be the KKK took my inspiration away. Fuck if I know, I usually just steal obscurities then quietly rage eight seconds after that the page contains naught but awful. I haven't decided if 'writer's block sucks' is indeed an axiom or actually a blessing in a Groucho nose n' stache because my stuff does suck (the secret word!), the two sucks canceling each other out, thus taking the title of Suckiest Bunch of Sucks That Ever Sucked from black notebook poems & returning it to it's rightful owner,
that bowling team the Cadavaliers & leaving me with nothing but saccharine gunk.
Someone pick a word already & I'll write around it & never show it, my synapses are blocked, or drunk.
Speaking of drunkards, only explanation for the lack of Kiss Kommenters. NE Ohio, you too, suck.
There's verse in them thar turgids!
I'm going to start stealing from myself. The Poetics of Onanism. Add 'Marxist' & we've got a postgrad bestseller on our hands.