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  • "... There’ll always be money
    And whores and drunkards
    Down to the last bomb
    But as God said
    Crossing his legs
    I see where I have made
    Plenty of poets but
    Not so very much poetry." Charles Bukoswki - 'To The Whore Who Took My Poems'

    Sometimes when a poem is writ
    It’s no more than a piece of shit
    With a smell as bad as any turd
    And yet it’s just a mess of words.

    Not offensive by themselves but
    Joined in certain ways they smell
    Like feces, poopoo, crap and more.
    Like diarrhea on the floor.
    Like flies inside the shithouse stall
    Stinky poems offend us all.

    It’s time to use some bigger words than
    Those like crap and fart and turds and
    So I will! I will! I swear!
    I’ll use the best and biggest words out there
    Words like egregious and Profligate and yes!
    Words like Parsimonious!

    Blithely will I make full use of Colossal verbiage
    Creating and composing an intransigent barrage of
    Reconstituted tedium and competuous garauche.
    Poems that beg the question to irrigate or douche?

    Or simply just ignore it all.
    Go lease a summer cottage and
    Live there until Fall.

    Put blisters on your fingers and
    Put plasters on your head but
    Put peppers on your privates and
    You’ll wish that you were dead!

    I only wrote this poem today
    To keep myself amused
    There’s not a taboo subject
    That I have not abused
    Just to have a laugh
    I’ll gladly take a sacred cow
    And cleave it with my gaff

    Now I’m through
    Now I’m done
    I’ve said my piece
    I’ve had my fun
    I’ve wrote about how poems are writ
    I’ve used the words crap, turd and shit!

    Like the furtive poet of the toilet stall
    I’ve written things to offend us all and
    Now that I have had my say
    Go write a poem.
    Enjoy your day!
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