grunge
This is not my vision of poetry
the rough caustic bitter
envelopment of hard images
that you professors seem to espouse
in your love for the visceral experience
these are not my images of poetry
that you artsy fartsy teeny-bopper
grunge posers seem to imitate
in your generation X lack of depth
and your shallow wannabee sexually liberated fuckers
fuck fuck fuck everything that moves, walks, talks
What about romance? What about love?
What about the never-ending essence of the oversoul;
What about that?
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