All you people out there think that poetry is for those fruity bastards who wear turtlenecks and prey on 18 year old girls.  What do I say to that?

Fuck you.

There are poems and poets that are manly as shit.  Here, take Dylan Thomas for example…

“Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rage at close of day: Rage, rage against the dying of the light…”

Yeah, that’s right.  This palooka’s talking about squinting at death, smiling, then spitting on his bony foot. 

Fuck you, death. You want me?  I ain’t gonna make it easy.

Or how about this one…

“Bluebird” by Charles Bukowski.

“There’s a bluebird in my heart that want’s to get out but I’m too tough for him,  I say, ‘stay in there,’ I’m not going to let anybody see you.”

That’s a real man!  Hey, you wanna see my “feminine side?”  Fuck you!  I’m a man and to be a man you have to show absolutely NO emotion. 

The only time a broad should see you flustered (besides when you punch some ass clown in the face for takin your bar stool) is when your mom, dad, siblings or dog dies.

So there.  Poetry CAN be awesome and manly.

Now shut your face so I can finish my drink.