The Real Deal about Poetry

by Dake Aachen

There’s no real or any deal with poetry. It sucks and you all know that. So quit rhyming words goddammit and say whatever you want to say the normal way. The truth is however that everyone can rhyme or rhythm but only a few can utter something meaningful and not range themselves to the topics of broken love or Bush Jr. hatred.

You know who was a real poet? — Bukowski. But that said, most of what he produced was prose and he was a sad drunk. So, any of you who want to do poetry and be only average lame (as opposed to totally lame lame) should at least start binge drinking and be steady at that for the minimum of two years. Then you might produce some rhyming and rhythmic verses and still be a fucking idiot but with an excuse to be one.

“Hi everyone, I’ve been on my permanent inebriation spree for the last two years and have seen crazy things, hallucinated and gone through all sorts of physical collapses and emotional dramas. Here’s what I can rhyme about that now!”

There’s another possibility, however, as we turn our faces to Allen Ginsberg. If you want to be a poet, be a fag (if you are not one yet). Suck someone’s dick, lick it, choke on it, round your lips tight around the fleshy swollen glans and taste the pre-cum and hear the big hairy male moan and gently tousle through the hair on your head. T-bag the testicles and smear the sperm all over your faggety poetic chest. Have that big purple vein dick protrude into your squeezing anus and enjoy the feel of strong male palms on your shoulders while the man is fucking you hard and his balls are slapping against yours. Then get a pen, a piece of paper and try to rhyme about the pain in your ass and what the semen tastes like. If you do this — well, you can be at least as famous Peter Orlovsky who devoted his whole life to sucking Allen Ginsberg’s dick and writing poetry.

If you combine dick-sucking with heavy psychedelics, then you may come up with something worth Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl”, but this is not guaranteed, so you better keep that in mind before you do LSD and expose your virgin butt to someone else’s woodie. I mean, if you are serious about poetry, you should have the courage to give blowjobs.

One more thing you can do to make your poetry sparkle is to start mainlining heroin. Forget about eating, smoking or sniffing the dope — shoot it right up your vein and keep doing that for a year (minimum). And only then write your verses. Jim Carroll did that and even though he was a poet he first gained national attention as a writer. Think about this, go to Tibet, ride a camel, read the bible, dye your shoes blue, grow a beard, circle the world in a paper canoe, subscribe to The Saturday Evening Post, chew on the left side of your mouth only, marry a woman with one leg and shave with a straight razor, and carve your name in her arm, brush your teeth with gasoline, sleep all day and climb trees at night, be a monk and drink buckshot and beer, hold your head under water and play the violin, do a belly dance before pink candles, kill your dog, run for Mayor, live in a barrel, break your head with a hatchet, plant tulips in the rain, but don’t write poetry. Trust Bukowski — that dead fart who always said what he said and meant what he meant and combined those two things.

That all said, you can also be a hot chick and that’s a huge excuse to write poetry provided that it boils down to the same eternal thing — dick-sucking.

“Oh, yes-yes, honey, your poetry is hot, I love it so, it makes my meat hard as a rock. I just adore the way your milky boobs jiggle, your fresh lips flutter when you are reading your poetry. Please get down on your knees, strip the bra off, let my purple tight glans leave clear lines of the pre-cum on your tender cheeks, ripe breasts, have the drops of my juice glisten on each of your neat and erect little nipples. Put them lips around my cock, don’t stop reading your poetry, it feels so good! Please don’t worry if this makes you mumble, the real verses always find the way to the heart. Don’t stop, sweet poet, I am enjoying your creative side, baby. With that tight ass you have, you are a real genius!”

Anyway, you get the idea.