I Don’t Give a Damn about My Reputation

I am not T.S. Eliot.

I’m not even one of those

guys who sits around and writes

Hallmark cards every day.

My dreams are vaginas

and dollar signs.

I am the most uninteresting man in the world.

I don’t normally write poems,

but when I do,

I prefer to write narcissistically

self-deprecating garbage

about not being able to write; or

how I was born

in Florida to a mother

addicted to Xanax,

and a father addicted

to pussy (not my mother’s).

I didn’t take the divorce well.

I’ve been arrested more times

than I care to admit.

People usually don’t like me

when they first meet me—

except for my mother.

She always wanted a boy.


5 Responses to “I Don’t Give a Damn about My Reputation”

  1. your mother needed the xanax because she was married to your father, LMAO…he sounds alot like my father…the worthless excuse of maledom 🙂

    you are a hoot!

    U bin smokin again, aint ju 🙂

  2. JazzehTheSpazzeh.xo Says:

    Your bluntness makes me feel so warm inside, I shit you not. Not that your familial situation makes me happy, but your nonchalant-devil-may-give-a-flying-fuck-bare-bones way of writing is epic. Less is definitely more.

    Also sorry about the dad and the mum. My moms good but my dad was an alcoholic abusive ass and kind of fucked up enough for both of them. But shit happens.

  3. Yeah I try to keep things as simple as possible. In prose and poetry, I definitely adopt a sparse, simplistic style. Thanks for the comment 🙂

    On a side note, I have a story titled Shit Happens somewhere on here (but it kinda sucks).

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