Originally, this was going to be an update about how the internet is massacring the English language, but then I realized how much time that would take and how soon I have to work tomorrow, so I decided to just post a bunch of the poetry I wrote at work. Now I can massacre poetry! That's right, poetry.

POET!

Pause for gay comments.

Continue.

Most of these are just about customers who walked in and did their stuff and left. These are typed here as they were orginally written, so there's been no enhancement done since I sleep-deprivedly jotted them down on grimy note paper. READ!

Crammed in a Tempo GL
Black Ghetto Music
for
White suburbia
Volume higher in decibels
Than collective IQ
(not in decibels)
Seatbelts are optional.

I'm sorry it's so expensive for you to die
Would that I could,
I'd expediate the process
at a discount
But I have to sell cigarettes
at the listed price -
Cancer at $7.92 a pack.

Your pants are too tight
So very tight
Were you expecting
Ass-shrinking tonight?
Blood circulation is a 'maybe'.
Smart is a 'no'.

Doors are confusing
Aren't they?
No one told you
They can lock
Damn the MAN!

Not stupid at all
That shirt speaks volumes now
Clothing in bad taste

Who Wears a shirt that SAYS
'Bootylicious' written in rhinestones?
Oh.
You do.

Oh, and here's the only one that actually rhymes:

Two bloodshot eyes
One ruddy nose
Disheveled hair
Filth-ridden clothes

Hundreds of dollars
Clutched in a fist
Something about you
I must have missed

Where are you going?
With skin pallor green?
Drugs, liquor, tragedy
Remains to be seen.

Your verdant face
I've seen before
Mumbling & inane
You head out the door

Good-bye, crazy drunk guy.

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