The Plebeian And The Estranged Eccentric Have A Word. Poem by Rafael Cazares

A: Hey, what happened back there?
B: Oh, I don't know. Don't hassle yourself too much with my past, or any for that matter.
A: Surely you don't mean to suggest yourself in this rude, crude manner?
B: No, but I can't help myself. It'd be worse if I resisted my impulses.
A: You've been raised by heathens!
B: And you raise like one yourself.
A: Well, you scoundrel! the civilized live under laws!
B.More so under the government's paw.
A: And also, your taste is odd and peculiar.
B: And yours is all too bland, all too common.
A: Aren't you afraid to be seen with the unfortunate?
B: Prejudices are a pestilence in observations, especially those of aesthetic related manners.
A: Indeed. Wise words pour forth from wise men.
B: And so, What is the life of thrill for the proletariat?
A: A myth!
B: Not for the wealthy and careless, so it seems.
A: They're different.
B: Among the sagacious, are innovators whose true vision see's beyond all the wealth in the world.
A: What lunacies are you entertaining, you outcast? When can I find romance? !
B: When you have proven that danger doesn't daunt you in whatever trials you face.
A: Should I leave so I can do what I wish?
B: Yes, find new fellows. There's no use wandering among these old, decayed gardens.
A: A toast then! To the bountiful!