
According to the National Endowment for the Arts, poetry reading in the United States is at a sixteen year low. (Yeehaw! Fuck the Taliban! Go America!) Now I like to think of myself as a pretty helpful guy, so to assist in continuing our statistical trend, I offer up some easily-ignorable and totally-skippable poetry of my very own.
Mechanical Horse
I had that dream again,
the one with David Hasselhoff
riding a mechanical horse
across the beach.
Except, this time, he stopped
and asked me a question.
“Do you know
who I am, boy?”
I thought about it for
a moment,
and then replied,
“I’m fairly sure you’re
television’s David Hasselhoff,
former star of hit shows
like Knightrider
and Baywatch.”
He smiled and nodded.
His teeth were as white
as those of Zeus,
if Zeus had known to
brush daily and
used Crest Whitestrips®.
I reached out then for
Hasselhoff’s
perfectly tanned hand,
but he pulled back
on the horse’s reins
before I could
and rode off.
On the wind
I caught
the faint murmur of,
“Recognizing me doesn’t
make us butt-buddies,
asshole.”

I'm pretty sure, you dreamt of meeting Hasselhoff and just broke the lines and called it a poem...fucking laureates.
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