Since I’m so full of opinions about poetry, I might as well also go ahead and post one of my own pieces.
Kenmore Joe
Young Joe was handsome; yeah, he knew it too.
The ladies don’t forget his lovely mug,
His fish-net T-shirt, nipples showing through,
His long hair wilder than a bug on drugs,
Or wonder where he got the money from
To act a player, spending like a pimp
Right there on Broadway where he used to come
To hustle out his own ass to the gimp.
“I run a school for fools,” some heard Joe say,
“Sometimes you have to educate these guys
That suckers suffer, motherfuckers pay.”
Joe, leveling the difference, put him wise.
The ladies all recalled Joe’s handsome face.
The prosecution rested on his case.