Call me Frankenstein, or the difference between a tweek and a drub?

I am furious
Writing in a vacuum
When Joe says
"I love you like a summer's eve"

And I make douche jokes
The audience thinks I am the douche.

When Jane says
"I seduced my prison guard"
And I say "bars cannot a window make"
The audience says
"Hail Shakespeare, go peddle your wares elsewares."

I want to disinvent the pen.
Create a chamber, made to torture
any who claim the name poet
to have to hear their own work 5000 times
until they KNOW it is dreck.

But, the only pen's graveyard
Is trying to make my thoughts known;
The only poet's torture chamber
Is pointing out egregious flaws.
And getting told "Mine was better"

[Of course yours wad of wet fur was better:
If I could taxidermy rot & get the live animal
Call me Frankenstein, I'd call this amateur crap quits!*]

*And then some flatterer will eat my Dahlmer sandwich
and say it tastes like fresh basil and caviar.

Words are the source of all misinformation.