i am in a room
other flesh-piles around
that are supposedly called “people”

the girl with the bleach blonde hair
& tanned leather skin
two pounds of make-up
& gallon of perfume
mouth a flappin’

the guy with the frosted tips
cleft chin
silver watch, sea shell necklace
& khaki shorts
white teeth a flashin’

the tattooed goth chica
pierced nips
red streaks in
her jet black hair
thinking about cuttin’
& wishing she was the pretty blonde
ranting about The Rapture

the computer nerd
with the Vivaldi t-shirt
denim shorts that used to be jeans
pimply face spitton’ out disses
on the cleft chin guy
(hoping he doesn’t hear)

everyone is spouting gibberish
conversing about themselves
mindless conjecture

the scruffy-faced poet
with crooked yellow teeth
pimply back
& dry scalp
sits in the corner
judging them all
thinking he is better
but knowing he’s not
he is just a serparate piece
cut from the same pie

everyone is spoutin’ gibberish
everyone is talkin’ aloud

so who the fuck is listenin’?

just the judgin’ prick of a poet
& he really doesn’t give
a shit about changing the world