Asynchronous Exchange (Or: How to Mock Those Who Deserve It) (poem)

By Luke Labern

The time between our testing hours
We always fit for us.
The things we say never sours
The air, or breaks our trust.

We talk at length of all things funny
Or queer, or strange, or weird--
How much this costs, or how much money
I have spent on my beard.

Days can melt, never long enough
Together. Now I see
A man attempting to look tough --
And he's pointing at me!

I look at you, and you look back:
"What's this guy's problem?"
I comment that he looks odd: crack?
"Did he not get the memo?"

Why approach us now, whilst we're fine?
Yet another foot step
Towards me and this friend of mine --
Just who does this guy rep?

Two feet away, his breath hangs there
Right before my stun'd face:
(I can see the germs in the air):
"I wish I'd brought mace.

So thus he stands, his cheeks quite red.
"Do you know who I am?"
"I don't know." I paused, then said:
"Perhaps your name is Sam?"

His eyes lit up, as I'd confused him:
"However did you guess?"
I then released my thorough grin:
"It's written on your chest."

How confused he was, this poor lad --
"I do apologise,"
I said; to save the pride he had.
"Now take your stupid eyes:

"Place them on a moron like you.
I won't fight you. OK?
There is nothing 'flash' or even new
About calling me 'gay'

"Because I don't walk arrogant:
You define pathetic.
I know that I've begun to rant --
But don't judge me too quick.

"You try to intimidate me,
But it will never work:
Can you honestly not see
This outrageous smirk?

"I don't know if this is comic
Or partly serious:
So before that gold chain you nick --
Listen, delirious:

"You should probably understand
That you're not one man;
You are just a station unmanned,
With no sign of a plan.

"So before you open your mouth,
Let me give you a hint:
You know you'll be heading down south
If you don't buy a mint:

"Your breath is disgusting,
As are your pointless word."
I stared at his shoes and his bling:
"You just follow the herds."

My friend laughed, I guess he agreed:
"How was court, by the way?"
Then Sam looked at us in great greed:
He had nothing to say.

Then my friend and I, we went home
To relax and laugh at
That unintelligible zone:
The mind of Sam, the twat.

A Poem,
Published 14 March 2012



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Disclaimer: This was written by an atheist. A fool. I do not stand by this work. I have left this here for the sake of posterity, and for the necessity of correcting myself. Click here for more information.