poems by tom miller

the greatest poem in the world - 2

Robert Frost can not compare and Oscar Wilde can eat me

I am better then Kipling or Poe, no writer can ever beat me

Ginsberg, Bukowski, farts in the wind - Ayn Rand, she was a booby chick

War and peace a wordy waste

I’m the best writer in this place

 

Tennyson, Plath both give me gas, they hold no candle to me

I am the best American proser - not a Rudyard Kipling poser

I am better than Truman Capote, his writings I use for composting

Alex Haley, Stephen King, around these hacks I could write rings

 

Why not bow and capitulate to my will and whims you bunch of ingrates

 

Now I’ll cease to laud my merits and brag my worldly greatness

Hear me roar, my words you’ll adore, you horrid ugly little bores

You’ll be shouting, More! More!

I’ll be pissin’ on you whores

 

You will clap for my scholarly wit but let me tell you what

I’m not messin’ with that shit, Why should I, for such idio-its

 

Smell my butt, smell my butt…