Grace Notes @ Snarkattack

I’m sad again, so you know what that means…

…post a poem! I’m really hoping that a couple of my overseas pals will hop online so they can tell me I’m not going mad…(I am really, but friends are generally good at telling you that you’re not all the bad things you think you are).

This one I also read on one of the LiveJournal communities I’m subscribed to and, in all honesty, it has to be admitted, this is probably the one that convinced me I had to read all of e. e. cummings’ work.

Here we go.

‘the boys i mean are not refined’

the boys i mean are not refined
they go with girls who buck and bite
they do not give a fuck for luck
they hump them thirteen times a night

one hangs a hat upon her tit
one carves a cross on her behind
they do not give a shit for wit
the boys i mean are not refined

they come with girls who bite and buck
who cannot read and cannot write
who laugh like they would fall apart
and masturbate with dynamite

the boys i mean are not refined
they cannot chat of that and this
they do not give a fart for art
they kill like you would take a piss

they speak whatever’s on their mind
they do whatever’s in their pants
the boys i mean are not refined
they shake the mountains when they dance