Wah Wah Call The Waaahmbulance

Wooo new people!

I'm going through the folder of poems from NaPoWriMo and working on revising them a little. On days where I have nothing new to present (most days), I'm going to post one of these revisions:

Wah Wah Call The Waaahmbulance (4/17/10)

The truest poet ever plays at softly sentimental,

spinning sad songs for tear drops, love lost, and shock value,

settles for whoever

pays attention--

like he knows inside that he’s just selling lies to strangers,

squares it with his god that

believing him is their choice.

Still he spins his stories, sobbing, spittle flying,

crying so you know he means it--

reminiscing artfully about when they were authentic

while looking for a remedy for happiness;

sadness sells too well and boring folks

love a tearful story over dinner as proof

they still feel anything.

And in fifty years or so no one will care about him

but there’s going to be, like, plenty of replacements

who never heard his name.