I'm Stoned and this Poet Sucks


I am stoned and this poet sucks!
I lean with my elbow on the counter
my hand pressing fiercely into my chin
holding my head from bobbing up and down
like one of those dogs in the back windw of an old car.
My eyes gaze glassy and red at the checkered tile floor
hopeing for somethng exciting like maybe a halucination
and that they might begin to move and dance, but no..
I am stoned and this poet SUCKS.
And the worst is taht HE doesnt get it...
I mean EVERYONE knows he sucks..and still he comes..
a weak barrage of wispy rhymes and cute metaphors
all in the name of love and romance and adventure
" oh how her eyes,...they glistened.."  phooey! hog wash!
same old same old harliquin bullshit for teenage girls
B-O-R-I-N-G  it is sad really.. but he tries and I am forced
to be a spectator in this spoken belly flop, 
and I am hoping not to have any of the words splash on me.
I am stoned and this poet sucks.
But I know that soon he will be done
and I will still be  stoned
waiting for the next poet, who might suck too,...we'll see...


Lob