POEM by Jonathan

behold, SoK's first foray into poetry, courtesy of and unbeknownst to dear friend and mancinomate Jonathan Mason......

jonathan.
Stupid.
Raindrops falling in my head.
30 days in February?

I'm leaving,
and I've left an "r"
out for retarded

Retarded retarded retarded
little black boy in a Prague Dept. Store window,
holding his head as if it could help his wits
and mechanical thoughts
from collapsing even faster

Like the little black Retard,
I compensate with my pearly whites;
smiling to erase my mistake.
But why can't I help my lust for hookers?
Smack-filled Godesses who do not judge.

God, send me a hooker,
so she can pet my aching head.
My ails ail me
and meandering worms eat away
at my last ounce of reason,
leaving me pale and dry.

If you see a little black retard
tell him God sent you:
He will cry and kick you in the shin
but really, he loves you like a brother.