Knock it the fuck off. I'm tired of reading poetry about you and their pain. Don't you know you're breaking their hearts? Tearing out their souls? And the pain, oh, sweet lord, the uniqueness of their pain. These are sensitive girls here, asshole, so knock it off. Now I'll beg you whoever you are, this unnamed Mankato heartbreaking "he," please stop...or at least move to Moorehead.
VIVA LAS CHICAS DE AMOR
September 21, 2007
To Whoever Is Breaking The Hearts Of All The Young Girls Of Mankato
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5 comments:
I'm assuming by "uniqueness of their pain," you mean completely uniform in degree of emotional suffering and abstractness.
Of course not, sir. Of course not.
So where have you been going where you're constantly accosted by these heartbroken poetesses? Are you just minding your own business at the local cafe having a cup a joe when a young woman whose emotions have reached the boiling point just erupts in line after line of gut wrenching poetry where you'd never wish that type of pain on anyone but for the beauty of those lines?
...or what?
Nostra, I am teaching a creative writing class, and I get to read line after line of gut-wrenching, large intestine-quaking, small intestine-shaking, bowel-quivering poetry about pain, oh the pain, of boys, dastardly, pain-causing boys.
Mr. Bwyan:
Are you sure it's a "HE" causing your sweet poetesses to have wrenched guts?
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