you’re a tired cliche
impoverished poet
that bullshit doesn’t fly
once you pass age 30
it ceases to be chic
as irresponsibility is your only luxury
and i’m not sorry
i wouldn’t let you invade my home
to squat in my basement
to write the same poems
about sodomy and pepsi
you were writing six years ago
with a pen
covered in chicken grease
never fear
there will always be
gullible people willing to share
their food stamps
with the legend
you never lived up to