Bob Dylan Nobel Prize & Johnny Cash in The New Yorker

[shemthepenman]

Thanks. I'm a shit writer, of course, but I hope I'll never have to write drivel such as the excerpt below. If the above is what you think is great poetry, then I rest my case.
Wait...I'm now getting the feeling that you're having me on. If so, then it's masterful. If not, then...well, let's just say that Dylan should refuse the Nobel and save the world some embarrassment 

Lights flicker from the opposite loft
In this room the heat pipes just cough
The country music station plays soft
But there's nothing really nothing to turn off

and if we're looking for cringe how about

Impossible angel

Beer and cigarettes
and you, your languid locks,
are always in my world of drunken walks
through Barbican and Bishopsgate,
in the moonbeam shallows
of walls spattered with poetry.

Thursday nights your longing is a sea
crossing through hours of drunkenness.
Mindful glances in the mermaid shadows
turn not to me.

Impossible angel
that runs not to me.

But runs to the deep sea's emptiness
in the white frothed wave that follows
the moon's pale lamp of loneliness
that burns not for me.

your languid locks :/ yep maybe that is why you are a shit poet, because you have no taste or concept of poetry. just saying. i won't add the obligatory laughing man emoticon. . . you know, it's like "i don;t really have to say anything intelligent, i'll jjust pretend i've said stated a universal truth. Dylan got the nobel prize for literature, i/m sure you know what's best though. they should have you on the panel of judges.