Right now theres a couple about twenty feet away going through what appears to be a highly anticipated break up. From what I can piece together between the assembly line of fuck yous and not my faults, it appears theyre arguing over money. This is the third month the female has failed to pay her share of the rent, so homeboy is throwing her shit out the window in garbage bags.
Most everyone along the street is watching the scene go down. If no one were watching, she would fling those garbage bags over her shoulder like some kind of urban Santa Clause and begin the trek to her nearest friends couch. But the eyes feed her hysteria as she hollers at the closed window.
This is no longer a typical break-up. This has become a one-woman play. She tells the story of how she cant get and doesnt want a job. She tells us about how her boyfriend is an asshole and how thats not a surprise. Im expecting her to take a bow at any moment.
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And you're right about poets being the lowest common denomenator, most of us are just whiney, over emotional, under sexed hippies. But i'm glad to see that their are still real writers out their.
The prelude to your last poem was awesome, and the poem itself was great.
I swear, as far as all the narrative poets that i've read I think your style of brutalitly and morality mixed in with a dash of good ol disgust makes you a great writer.