This poem was a tribute to the host of open mic poetry night at a Newark coffee shop. The host's name is Rich and he got so angry when I read my poems and said "is this poetry? is this even real poetry?" The coffee shop was real fucked up and had a minium purchase of $1.50 to watch poetry night and Rich would say after every poet, "Remember you losers, it's $1.50, not a dollar. Pay up or get out." Rich is an idiot and this was a birthday present to him.
The old man walked up to the microphone in the front of the coffee shop with the arm he injured in the war hanging by his side. He took out a small pill marked with a "V" on it and drank it with his tea. "Daaaa, you might remember me as an ex-Senator from Kansas," the senile old man spoke. His obnoxious wife jumped from her chair screaming, "You tell em, Bob!" while the old man stared into the room, obviously not knowing what he was doing. "Bob Dole's first poem," he muttered, "is about this here pill I just swallowed. It's about what the pill Bob Dole just took is going to do to Bob Dole in about, oh 20 more seconds." The people in their seats stared blankly at him, while the old man stared back, occasionally glancing down at his watch. "Is this a poem? Is this even a real poem," screamed the host of poetry night, who was already having a bad day since he was raped by a gang of horny alter boys on the way to the show. "Calm down, young man, Bob Dole has about 15 more seconds," he replied, without any concern of the audience getting more annoyed by the second. Each second that passed seemed like 3 seconds, and the short attention span of the audience was becoming clearer, as the host rolled around in the floor pulling his red hair out, screaming, "For Christ sakes, it's not even real poetry!" "Uhhh huh," the old man said, "I can just about feel it now. Bob Dole can just about feel the magic pill taking control of Bob Dole's body." "Did you even BUY anything yet," the host screamed from the floor, "it's a DOLLAR fifty minium for this event! Not a dollar, a dollar fifty! Is this even poetry?" "Hurry up jerk," they screamed to the old man, not understanding how 15 seconds could seem to take as long as it seems to be taking. "Uhhh huh, oh it just happened," calmly spoke the old man, while his tramp of a wife stood on her chair screaming, "Show em the goods, Bob!" "Bob Dole plans to Elizabeth, Bob Dole plans to. Bob Dole is a war hero and Bob Dole doesn't need to be rushed. Bob Dole once met the President and was in half a dozen Visa check commercials, and Bob Dole certainly doesn't need to take this nonsense from you rogues in a goddamn coffee house of all places! But seriously folks, Bob Dole thinks you will love this poem." Then the old man took down his pants, exposing his naked erect penis to all of the strangers at poetry night, and looked over at the host and said, "Your mouth is like an unblossomed flower, and this here wang is representing the bumbley bee who is going to pollinate your nectar. In other words... suck it!" "You sick, disgusting, perverted old man," the host of poetry night screamed, "why I have a good mind to shove this spatula clear up your anal!" The host then proceeded to slap the old man, and shoved a Columbian lemon up his rectum. The other poets booed and threw their coffee mugs at him and broke bottles over his head. And his wife... oh his wife was so embarrassed that she put her black ray bans on and ran out the back door in humiliation. The old man lay on the floor with his pants around his legs, while the strangers continued bashing the old man's head in with their tables and glasses and a big rock his wife brought to sit on, but forgot to bring with her when she ran out the door screaming in humiliation of her idiot husband who wasn't even a real war hero... and the old man, who came in barley conscious and now couldn't even move his legs, looked up from the floor and he said, "All I wanted to do was read my poetry and expose myself to a room full of strangers. Plus Bob Dole took his last Viagra and Rich didn't even suck it. I just can't win."
