Look at me, look at me! (A post-modern poem.)

Look at me, look at me!
Marvel at my poetry.
Feed my ego, soothe my id
By telling me how well I did.
Every word comes from the heart,
It's not showing off; it's art.
If you like it, here's a hint;
Tell me that I'm fucking mint.

Look at me, look at me!
On stage where I was born to be.
I don't do subtle or sublime,
I just swear a lot and make it rhyme.
Being a poet wasn't planned
But no fucker wants me in their band.
Can I ask a favour? It's not much -
Just tell your friends I'm double-cush.

Look at me, look at me!
Better than you thought I'd be.
A master of my native tongue,
Wise and witty and well-hung.
Got a huge vocabulary,
I hate racists and constabulary.
Rather watch my daughter lick tramps' bollocks
Than see my son become a polis.

Look at me, look at me!
Are you well-jel? Well, you should be.
Every verse is proper class,
I can pull pretty much any lass.
They'll sing my name when I am gone,
These pearls of wisdom will live on.
Say I'm deluded, out of my tree.
I don't care as long as you look at me.