Output

Output is the number one lesson I've gotten in the last month. So, of course, output on the blog front fails. Here's some poems:

I don't own a tailored black pea-coat

So I don't know where I should stand in line

My bright yellow jacket looks like a banana surrounded by chocolate

George-Michael is probably going to sell me

I'm fantasizing about summer

Because I accidentally touched my shin to the radiator

Now my shin has a blister

And my house is still cold

These aren't really poems

Unless you are emphasizing these line breaks when you're reading

Like

PO

PO

PO-EM

I AM

I AM EMMANUEL

AM I

AM I?

You read that with the wrong emphasis

And Witt would punch you in the back of your neck

Because he hates spoken word

A bad critique is not

Your work sucks

This sucks, and this sucks

This is too dark, this is too light

And everything you've done is wrong

It is

Well, this isn't what I wanted

Can you elaborate

No

Although I want chinese food

I will not eat it here

Not here, not in this city

Because my last order tasted like chicken water

It made me gag, but

It also reminded me

Of Hot Ham Water

Which almost made it worth it

I take writing and reading good poetry seriously

That said

This was today's joke.