My Beerdrunk Soul Is Sadder Than All

I Am A Poem. There Is No Way Out.

Now Something So Sad Has Hold Of Us That The Breath Leaves And We Can't Even Cry.

The Pest, In A Sense, Is A Very Superior Being To Us: He Knows Where To Find Us And How--usually In The Bath Or In Sexual Intercourse Or Asleep.

If You Can Hit A Guy Once, You Can Hit Him Twice.

But Then If You Lied To A Man About His Talent Just Because He Was Sitting Across From You, That Was The Most Unforgivable Lie Of Them All, Because That Was Telling Him To Go On, To Continue Which Was The Worst Way For A Man Without Real Talent To Waste His Life, Finally. But Many People Did Just That, Friends And Relatives Mostly.