Getting Kicked Out Poem by Smack Thompson

I stepped on a rusted nail
But I guess we all drip/ our tears

into champagne glasses
whEn the blacksmith
tells us /

he's out of
brass rings


to eat wIth wedding cake

and doom /and gloom
steps on a puddle of roses
until the.... racoons


give.everyone. rabies


and I hate people faking
it

dressed it up to look
profound Wouldn't it be nice
if someone protested
screaming
SMACK THOMPSON MUST NOT DIE? ! ? !