“The Mandatory Poem About Black Love and Black Women That Every Black Poet Feels Compelled to Write Because of Some Ridiculous Ideology That Makes This Subject a Prerequisite Point of Conversation Amongst a Pseudo-“Enlightened” Group of Neo-Soul Negroes That Show Up at Poetry Readings in Shirts Made From Hemp With Their Unkempt Dreadlocks Flailing Over Their Faces as They Eat Ostrich Burgers With a Fork and Knife as They Trade Condescending Glances Amongst Each Other as They View Me Wrist-Deep in a Plate of Hot Wings Covered in Excessive Amounts of Old Bay Seasoning in a Booth Next to Another Group of “Artists” Clad in Chicletas Reciting India.Arie Lyrics as They Prepare to Give Their Excruciatingly Long and Drab Depictions of the Magical Prowess of Afro-centric Sensuality in an Attempt to Stay in Their Manufactured, ‘Love Jones’-Inspired Microcosms While Real Poets With Valid and Creative Spins on Daily Life Are Eschewed by Those Who Believe Social Consciousness Exists Only After Reading Cliffnotes of the Works of Amiri Baraka and Shunning Traditional Bodywash in Favor of Bathing in an All Too Common Aura of Inflated and Unwarranted Sense of Self-Pride in Urban Awareness Because Their Bathroom Sinks Contain Ambi Products Free of Dyes and Other Ingredients The White Man Apparently Places in Products Solely to Keep Niggers From Realizing Their Truly Annoying Potential to be Pretentious at Their Newfound Nubian Awakening While Maintaining a Patronizing Tone for Any Black Man That Actually Takes Pride in Being Honest With Himself.”

 (Insert poem here.)

A.J. Armstrong is not a fan of Bohemian A-Holes. He is also the creator of the Fly Hobo and His World of Oddities.