A Poem

You are a turd
Your writing is absurd

You are a liar
Of your lame non-explanations I tire

In particular I despise
This picture of you, the look in your eyes:














I discussed your book with Ash and Small Fish at Chop Suey
What a waste of time! And what Phooey!
How embarassing! to be caught praising your book
like some sucker, a helpless fish on a hook,
and then shortly after,
Small Fish warns me of the pending PR disaster

And yet you survive! How's this?
Your lies about drugs, vomit, blood and piss
Still resonate with readers? And Oprah too?
Does not your fraudulent book literally smell of rotty poo?

Well I for one send psychic daggers your way!
For your literary crimes I believe you will pay

If only you'd admit you lied
If only one day in the news I read "He apologized!"

"He's sorry to have given serious writers a bad name!
And he forfeits his money and fame!"

Then, and only then,

I'd still think you're an asshole.