soon forgotten

the poets
sit at a table
fellating each other
while rolling their eyes
smoking cigarettes
passing silent judgement
while spewing lies
bunch of sycophantic swine
with no regard
for truth
less for beauty
pouring wine
across the sheet
pretending they are
real poets
when they
have never known
more than
a moment’s misfortune
never felt pain
or crawled across
broken glass
for a last glimpse at love
rhyming two words
like a chimpanzee
slinging shit
at the gawkers
that clap and take photos
i just chuckle
clean away
the dirty dishes
write another verse
in my head
piss off
into the underbelly
when my shift
is done
an invisible fool
bussing the tables
of the soon forgotten

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s