Posted in Poem, Poetry

In All Modesty

I’ve had a few
stalkers in
my lifetime
ranging from
grotesque to
elegance
I know a few
things about
humility

I’ve had
moderate
success when
it comes to
the statistics
of my love life
for which
I can say
I’m satisfied
I know a few
things about
gratuity

I’ve seen these
elaborate bios
professing success
and a desire for praise
their extended list
of achievements
are pretentious
for the size of
the small press scene

I may or may not
be satisfied with
the length of
my penis
it’s one of the
few things I
conceal when it
comes to writing
my poetry

But if you
must know
whether
it’s a fact
or a myth
worthy of
contemplation
all you have to do
is read the contents
of my bio
in all modesty

© Michael Marrotti

Posted in Poem, Poetry

An Obnoxious Poem 

I may be
the only
non-drinking
poet of the
21st century
spilling his
sentimental
blood on this
digital display

But my ladies
know these
fingers can
do more than
just typing

Nobody
is praising
my writing
it’s no
sweat off
my cock

I get my
accolades
in a sexually
gratifying
way

At times
I can use
some help
getting it up
although
I’m never
short when
it comes to
assistance

My poetry
has worked
like a charm
I’ve been
sucked dry
of my
inspiration

Fondling
two sets
of tits

Running
out of
verbs
but always
equipped
with ladies
at my
residence
eager to
do the thing

© Michael Marrotti

Posted in Poem, Poetry

420 

420 is the stoner
holiday for most
who enjoy bong hits
Pepsi and pizza delivery

For others it’s the day
that spawned a monster
or a malicious school
shooting by those
who refused to take
what they were offered

It’s a day of remembrance
it’s a day to forget
for me its one
of the most memorable
days of the year

So for someone
with a bad memory
and contempt
for cliches
I thought the day
after would be
an ideal date
for a loving
anniversary

© Michael Marrotti

This poem was orignally published by Section 8 Magazine.

Posted in Poem, Poetry

Cancellation Of The Blues

Death is imminent
try if you will
to elude your fate
there’s no escape
I wanna watch
you die

I’m counting
down
the days
awaiting
those final hours
without you
there wound be
no loss

White roses
would sprout
from the filth
of the city streets

Guitars
would always
play in tune
for a society
living in harmony

Cures would be
readily available
to those
who gave back

People would smile
when the scum
of the earth
withered away
and died
a painful death

An eradication
of grief
a cancellation
of the blues

People die
every
day of the week
it’s a shame
you’re
not one of them

For without you
there’d be
nothing
left to lose

© Michael Marrotti

Posted in Poem, Poetry

Agoraphobic Media 

Remove the banality
of people’s lives
along with their
pretentious proclivities
and Facebook
would be faceless

Forbid the use
of nipples and ass
which supersede
the use of words
and Twitter
wouldn’t tweet

Prohibit the need
to connect with others
through the sound
of music and Google+
would fall on deaf ears

Eradicate all
social media options
and the general public
would be forced
to get off the couch
in the comfort
of their own awkward world
put on a pair of pants
take a breath of fresh air
and engage in a real life
face to face conversation

No more carpal tunnel
no more tough guys
with delicate fingers
pushing keys
as they attempt
to make a fascist point
no more artificial
profile pictures

Nothing but authenticity
apprehension and Xanax
by the dozen
for a generation
obsessed with seclusion
and a life that’s all about them

© Michael Marrotti