Replying to a comment on:

Dear Mr. Poetry, could you hold my purse? <how does babbit do it> (Haiku) by horus8

It's a mystery!? Could it be the tap water? I fucking doubt it. It's education!? Some people deserve it more. Just don't ask me why. Here's a well placed yawn. To go with your diplomas, and your poetry. Imagination! Can't be taught at any school. Except, maybe his?

poetandknowit 9-Dec-02/7:49 PM
Now there is a clever reply. I bet you watch Good Will Hunting over and over. And tell yourself. It is okay. It is okay. Oh to be a Hollywood dreamer boy, living the life of movie stars. Ma, I got a new agent this week and now I am the new Tidy Bowl Man. The old fucker died. Drown. The irony. Hooray let's have a party and shoot up and relate our tough lives in purely confessional tones and call it fucking inventive. Oh yes. We are we are, the youth of the nation! Now that takes a wealth of imagination and a nation of millions of echo BOOMers. Come on young Genet. Come on the ghost of Ionesco. Give me a Zebra to go with that Rhino. Let's read poetry in airplane hangers while swinging upside down on trapeze. You are walking in the wrong shoes, my friend. Please.




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