unlike other famous poets, I was not born ugly. In fact, I was angelic, of the Michael Angelo variety. I became - I grew into my Disgusting-ness. i was not always this fat, sagging, bag of old sins; i was, by all accounts, tremendously attractive, for a child. my voice was not yet raw with impotent rage; a veritable croon charmed the world from out of my lips. i was not this pitiful waste; according to all my teachers, i was filled with potential, capable of anything… legal. i had a sharp, not square, but well defined, chin, and a straight nose. Only my ears were questionable, however, that resolved itself before I was five. The young ladies of the time found my thick, greasy, straight locks of dirty blond hair exotic; enough to come out from their yards, call after me: "Guedo!", arms stretched out to touch me - my hair. my slender figure demanded attention, middle-aged men in Cameros and Firebirds offering $20 to let them suck my dick; i was not always unable to get a free drink in a gay bar