Thank you for such an
interesting proposal.

However,
I’ve a couple notes
and a few questions
that I must ask.

Are you okay?
In the head, I mean?
Have you seeked professional help?
(How did he get here?)
(Who is he again?)

Pardon me,
let’s get to feedback.

First of all, 
I must inform you that
skinema has gone digital;
you may have been huffing fumes
from smokestacks
or living under a rock--
like a neighbor to
who lives in a pineapple
under the sea--
next to that oasis of yours.

If you truly feel that
the industry
really has neglected
“guys like you”
(incels)
allow me to record
the most genuine,
intimate,
and honest
apology unto thee
for all to see--
forgive me.

It seems that 
that head of yours,
the one with plastic eyes
that reminds us of Hemingway
without any semblance of balls,
is only concerned with
the mythic status perpetuated
by my generation’s elders
that comes from being
a so-called stud.

Who’s to say
what the ideal lover
looks like
acts like
loves like?
Who are you
to command
the charms
of demons?
Who is this neckbeard
to say what’s hot
and what’s not?

You believe yourself 
to be above it all,
claiming we willing
and ethically-sound few
to be pathetic objects
unworthy and unblessed.

“Like a preacher needs pain,
like a needle needs a vein”--
kindly
touch some grass
and shut the fuck up
but I digress.

You want loins
that don’t belong to
the other girls
but there’s an issue
with your complaint ticket;
your manic pixie dream girls
with pocket protected tops
and houndstooth skirts
run the shop of pleasures
everyone goes to;
they are the managers
and you’re but a Karen.

Your frantic, boastful grunts
remind me of gigolos
barking like chihuahuas
(how pitifully cute)--
a self-proclaimed auteur
like yourself
would know that though,
right?

Derivative, lifeless, and 
selfish are your proposals
So before any sort of
Serious consideration
Of developing any sort of
“Nerd porn”
I must inform you
That there will be none of the following:

Self-righteous, self-insert vanity fantasy 
projects of your design;
gatekeeping whilst fence-sitting;
and absolutely no cringe.

The smut must flow
and it will do so 
as time continues to pass 
you and I both.

Oh, and by the way,
leave star-making to
lady luck,
entropy,
and those willing and ready
to sit on black leather couches.

Hello there, everyone. It feels like it’s been a while since I’ve had any sort of engaging blurb that engaged the audience. I hope you’re all better than I am this season.

So, what do y’all think about the recent poetry? As some of you know already, I’m still wrapping up my final semester in grad school while balancing a full-time job—the latter of which I, quite frankly, am starting to worry about and mentally preparing to lose if my company decides to cut me from their ranks by the end of November. Anyway, for those who didn’t know, I’m taking a poetry course this fall so I decided to post some of my final project rejects here. I figured that since I’m mandated to write poems for class, I might as well share some of the excess yields (but like the artist formerly known as Kanye West, I intend to keep the good ones for myself to maybe publish in the near future—I’m not sure about that though, I don’t currently invest a lot of stock in my own writing).

But, yeah, that’s why I’ve been posting poetry all of a sudden. As far as this week's poem goes, I feel that a bit of context ought to be given. Some of y’all might know about author Ernest Cline and his book Ready Player One—but I bet y’all don’t know much about his poetry.

Yeah. I know right?

My poem above is a response to a notorious piece he wrote titled “Nerd Porn Auteur” and it’s as hot as you’d think it’d be (like a trash fire, not like actual sex). I highly recommend clicking the link as it is a live reading by Cline himself but for those who prefer the transcript, feel free to click here for the writing in full. I wrote the poem as a sort of response. Lemme know what you think of it because I enjoyed writing the damned thing.

Thank you for reading this edition of The Morning Owl. If you liked what you saw here, it would be please leave a like, subscribe, leave a comment, and share this degenerate’s blog to other sentient folk with internet access. Until we meet again, drink plenty of water and take care.