I don't know what happened
To you in Brooklyn
And you'd hate me for saying so,
But you have chutzpah.

Don't take it as a compliment, not that you would.
You wouldn't call this a poem, I'm sure.

I know you were a walking show
Sure never to disappoint
Your written wit like a mass castration
My stomach turns; I turn the page.

I think I laugh the loudest knowing
You became your parody.

03/30/2009

Posted on 03/30/2009
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