Poor Mr. Po-Mo, Pt. II

poor Mr. Po-Mo: you're a little brother
trying to smoke the cigarettes you found
in your brother's sock drawer—
you can't light it because,

my good boy, you have to inhale.
you tear off the filter because
that's the icky part and you want it

poor Mr. Po-MoL you take a shot
of vodka again and again at the bar
because your friends told you
you never drink enough

to be fun. you don't mind it
because you need it harsh
but a little orange juice will ease the burn
and the hangover tomorrow.

poor Mr. Po-Mo: you're a thirteen-
year-old fucking (there's no love-
making because you don't know at that
age what love is) without a condom—

use a filter; use a bit of orange juice
to make it less raw, to make the
hangover tomorrow a little less

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