You want me to do what?

I wrote this one back in the fall of 04 for Steve Kowit, my professor in my poetry workshop class, as more of a joke than anything else....

You want me to do what?
To recite one of my poems aloud?
You've got to be kidding
Every poem we've work shopped
You've torn apart
Yes, Steve, you devour them
Like a dog on a bone
Gnawing them endlessly
Admit it, you like it!
And then the class joins in
It's maddening
And you really want me to recite this, this junk?
I must ask, why?

And when I start reading it
All of you will just want
To curl up and die
And ask yourself why?
What have I done to deserve this torture?
My voice will be as dull and mundane
As a dead duck floating in a murky pond
My words will make no sense
They will be so irrational and
Used in the wrong context
Like a parrot repeating those words he heard
My poems are best when served shredded
Or simply iced or used as a paper airplane
Or anything where the words matter not

Sure, I could stand there
Mouth agape in front of the three people
Who actual thought they would hear
Something good
In fact, they're probably the only ones here
Who enjoy poetry at large
Steve, I could be your worse nightmare
And ramble on for hours on in
And then some-just for the look on
Your face