we summon the literati to the table to witness this feast of fraud poems that we willingly pluck from the ether when we should just as well throw them in the garbage who decides what is good? who decides what to read? You? me? I don't think so it is the public John Q. nice to meet you divining the past is what poetry teaches the masses not how to predict the future and the present exists only as a conduit between the two and now excuse the obligatory primal scream ending of our poem and I hope you come again to witness the truth FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!