Memories of Lame - Part 1

I saw two more poems on the bus today, and their juxtaposition prompted me to share them with you.

Here is the first one. I'd like you to read it and form your opinion of the poem, and the age of the author before you continue with this post. I'll wait.

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Ok, so this is the kind of poetry that I really dislike: overly wordy, irritatingly erudite, and full of callow obnoxiousness (see, I can do it too). In fact, it exactly reminds me of the crap that *I* used to write when I was 16 (yes, the age of the author). Granted, mine were usually a bit more macabre...

I like to give credit where I can, so I'm sorry for not getting the name of the writer.

Crepes of Desperation? Moving on.