Poem Written in Blogger from IM Transcripts and Two Things from my Office

Today I made a plagiarist cry, big eyed,
she looked sadder than the pope--which one?

It's "Spenser," not "Spencer,"
but that was just her first mistake

A small brown wounded bird all wet
sitting there & struggling to stand

We could make a new sincerity manifesto
let Joe be our Breton but then what

& that's kinda hot in a totally non-gay
way, but I know a thing about darkness

because I jerked off on my roommate
yesterday & that's another title

like "I think kicking elves is fun"
or "our fellow new sincerest is online."

a tofu sandwich with cock sauce, green tip
embossed white rooster named "Sriracha."

Well, the plagiarist pleaded while Jonathan
wrote a poem about Bette's ass

& the rest of us just looked on, brushing
up on Spanish, licking gin from a glass rim

licking Scotch from the belly of someone
you no longer love but are still in the mood

for from time to time and who you sometimes
still like, embarrassingly, she said

"I lost the key" & what was left of us
was some plastic-coated metal cable.