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

raw.

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

rough.