Must quickly post before I finish the rest of THE WEDNESDAY OF DOOM and hope I can scrape by alive...

The Update:
Found out The Fucker's real name. It's not as fitting as The Fucker. The Cronie is worse than The Fucker I've decided, but that's because weasels are slimy and I hate them in all forms. And I can't believe The Fucker wrote that awful Chilies poem. If there had been respect for him before it would be gone now. Also, there are two new characters: Funny Hair Girl and Ponytail Girl. Funny Hair Girl has hair I've never seen even in television but she seems remotely intelligent... it's just so damn distracting I've given in to never being able to focus on anything she says for real. Ponytail Girl has the biggest ponytail I've ever seen in my life and that, too, is distracting. But she is nice and she sat in the corner with us today so there are brownie points to be ladled out. Also: Earrings Girl lost more brownie points but Naked Girl was nice today. She's still naked though and that's still uncomfortable.

Note of Importance: If there is anything I hate most in this life, it's wind.

And now it's time for your daily narcissistic spoonful:

Write another poem. About whatever the hell you want. You have a week. Go.

High

It's another Poetic Rant
cascading down the page
dripping with Meaning
and Substance.
Overdose on metaphor
leave it bubbling on the fire,
on a bent and mangled spoon.

It's the drug of choice:
snort a line of Self Worth
before pen molests paper;
spike the ego
and the punch will come.
Quick, feed the addiction,
need that self-indulgent high.

It's the Ultimate Truth
wrapped within the word-haze
of Rhyme and Slant and Rhythm.
Toke it up,
inhale the sweet delusions of
Poetry, the uncut essence
of neurotic escapism.

Now. Excuse me while I throw myself out the window.
Wednesday will be my downfall.

ink :: graphite