Here I Go… Too Late

 So I went outside.. 

I was not- 

At least I don’t ,

Think-

I fucked up. 

I read a muse a poem…

About themselves.

I broke the rules 

The laws Of  Beauty

The Vows Of truth. 

I read a muse her poem.

I became creep,

Creepy creeping creeper -

Her friend putting up a fight, to stay in her 

Black dress, seemed to suggest a pep... 

Talk might-

Might, 

But-

 

I didn’t think, 

Thunk,

Should thinked-

I’m creep, I read her a poem to make her feel, 

Feel,

Feel, 

Feel better.

(I made it worse.)

Worse. 

Was the poem really that bad?

Was it the part about Patty Hearst?

It was the easiest way to remember your look.

I forget,  I always forget,

I was, I was, I was gonna say you look like you came off a 

sonic youth t-shirt, I saw back in  96'.

I forget, I always forget....

But I will remember the lesson. 

Not you, the lesson.

I'm sorry if made you uncomfortable, 

I look for all kinds of muses.

Some poets write about horses and racetracks,

Some poets write about lovers and broken hearts.

Some poets pander about failed revolutions 

I write about sad drunk people in a dive karaoke bar.