I was on Skype and told David I was going to write a poem about him.
It would include all of my favorite things.
Lies, pornography, violence and antisemitism.
In no particular order of course I'd just wing it and shoot from the hip so to speak.
Strange noises burst forth from this poetic genius as he has yet another psychotic meltdown.
"I am Thor Jupiter Hermes ruling from Mt. Olympus.
I have many scantly clad Muses falling at my feet.
Lesbians and young poets come from far and wide to learn from my wisdom.
I am blessed with the might of Hercules and the creative juices of Homer."
And I think I had too much coffee with milk in it as my bowls begin to shutter and make a noise similar to the voice coming across the speakers.
The scratching on the walls the tapping of toes on rubber floors.
He hasn't been taking his drugs, (I mean the kind proscribed by an actual Dr.)
Has lost his mind from too much memorization of poems and obsession with some news anchor.
He has met famous poets of old and mingled with the stars.
But as always this one star has fallen, Lucifer star of the morning, the Devil in not a very good disguise.
As I was about to read my rough draft to him, he had to let me go for some chick he has the horn for.
Bastard.
Dru
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