poetry meeting

who brought the doughnuts?
who has any idea how to spell donuts?
what the hell is going on,
what dots are being connected here,
who wrote this appendix?
whose poem is this anyway?

this is the part of the comment
where i'm going Socrates on your ass
if Socrates had a great-great-however-great-
grandson that made a name for himself
asking bears about the pursuit of happiness
and ended up being a joke on the Animal Channel
like every other joke on the Animal Channel
that made me want to be a poet in the first place,
maybe.

i'm counting up your ambitions
and so far my right hand's got it covered
so my left hand can circle the spots
where you forgot your head.

this is the part of the comment
where i'm going Cinderella on your ass
if Cinderella somehow begat a poet
that could shine and polish circles
around that bitch.

thinking i'm allowed a potty break
(to smell something that owns up to what it is,)
i think of this also:
if ever i am asked why i spell my name
kaleb (worst) instead of kaleb worst
when i make my literary appearance,
i'll say this in response:
kaleb worst lives in boston,
kaleb (worst) lives in fairyland.
and maybe they're slowly becoming
the same person, but kaleb (worst)
doesn't know that & it's good enough for me.
and when i look in the mirror,
reflecting my vanity back at me,
boy do I terrify.

i'm back and thinkin' dunkin'.
this is the part towards the end
where someone spits their autograph on the wall
and is never seen or read by us again.
i'll wait until it's anybody but me.
but no one is or ever has been kaleb (worst)
so thank god, wasn't me.