This is a man's poem.
Not a woman's. I will make that very clear.
I wrote this with a sharpie with a broken cap,
And I tried to draw "snails and puppy dog tails"
But they ended up looking bad so I 
Scribbled them out because
If I ignore something,
It often isn't there.

This is a man's poem.
The outside edges are stained with beer,
And ketchup and mustard,
And some kind of mystery substance, 
And I put them there on purpose because
Looks are everything.

This is a man's poem. 
I have sprayed it with many layers
Of Ax, Old Spice, and otherwise,
Dipped it in aftershave,
And dried it with a BLUE towel,
And as such, it is art,
As it was made by me.
A man.