a poem i wrote whilst other people were reading their poems

i didn't listen to marta because
i was gulping back sluicing spit that threatened my competency.
my competency is very important to me. sorry marta.
i was competent.
josh is a surd. a surd is an unforgivable sin. [TURNS OUT IT'S ACTUALLY A NATURAL EVIL. YOU GONNA BREAK MY BALLS OVER THIS? I WAS UNDER PRESSURE. SELF-IMPOSED PRESSURE, BUT PRESSURE ALL THE SAME.] josh is the kind of unforgivable sin i like to commit whenever i have the necessary equipment - harness, chaps, misogyny, llamas.
rare gentle tanya, clear quavering neologist
'silent not subtle understated' -
stuttering on the beautiful lines is GOOD GAME.
the parrot was superglued to the hat. dan's hat
looked super-purfluous under lights, but he may just be a man crush;
i always go for stubbled heteros with talent & sincerity & penis dysmorphia.
primal thumpy scratchy
high-lingering shu
is good for me & good for you
& good for me & good for you
echo slime nightmarish beauty-clink
as cool as a white girl is ever gonna get.
i'm glad marta's back.
i felt bad about the first verse.
i kind of need to take a leak, though...
kat is the kind of girl i hope will find the notes i leave in books down at the south bank. her boyfriend is kind of guy i encourage to participate in dangerous sports, & to intervene in knife fights.
i did not have time to write
anything good about sam. this is to his credit.
there is nothing so noble & sublime
as gathering to share what we have.
marta - you aren't even my lover,
but i miss you in bed.