This is dedicated to various literary magazines, blogs, and teenagers I have encountered far too often in my lifetime.

The Poem of All Poems.

You are not
a poet just because you
randomly
split
sentences
in different places.

You are
not a fucking literary rebel
just because you fucking use
curse words in your
goddamn shitty pieces of
work,
bitch.

You are not
a creative person just because
you randomly utilize

different

l
a
y
o
u
t

conVENtions
      f
       o
        r

your poems.

You are not e.e. cummings
You are not Bukowski
You are definitely not Tennyson, Keats, Wordsworth or Whitman.

You are
not
a

poet.

Today, during my weekly night class (which happens to last an ungodly 3 hours), I noticed something in the corner of my eye while I was diligently and frantically taking notes.

It wasn't something unnatural, per se, nor was it something particularly uncommon. Yet, it managed to disgust me even more than when, in the 7th grade, I found out Alex Von BuckToothed had a crush on me. Yes, even more than that.

It was

a

foot.

Now, I don't dislike all feet, but this one SPECIFICALLY inspired feelings of indigestion.
Firstly, it was calloused, crusty, red, and in short, simply grotesque. At that point, I noticed a tiny high-heeled shoe haphazardly tossed aside (far too tiny for that massive foot), and all questions were answered.

Secondly, it wouldn't stop MOVING! I don't know about you, but my feet don't move very much. At least, not like that. All of those little piggies seriously wanted to get wherever the fuck they were going. Mine kind of sit back in their La-Z-Boys and eat pretzels.

Thirdly, it had a bunch of temporary tattoos all over the place. Perhaps to distract from the fact that it was so gruesome? If that's the case, it backfired; the tattoos just drew more attention to the foot itself. Plus, the "artwork", upon first glance, appeared to be skin diseases. I don't want to see that while I'm learning about flying buttresses! No! I don't!

At some point, I imagined a green mist of intolerable odor wafting over to my little area. The whole experience came dangerously close to making me sick.
You see everyone, this is why it should be illegal for people to buy shoes that do not properly fit them. Not for their health.

For MINE.

People seriously need to become well-versed in the ridiculously important, but seemingly lost, art of toilet flushing.

God damn.