The Psychotic Dr. Schreber

I'm terminally over-caffeinated

Self-medicated, pejoratively self-critical

Hyperbolically in-tune with others' failings

Almost permanently masked by sweat and grime

But they don't like me because of my middle name

I'm liberal when it's fashionable

Self-effacing, injuriously self-immolating

Paradoxically at odds with moneyed interest

Capable of near-total outlook vacillation

But they don't like me because I'm from a bad, bad place

I'm ignorant of trends and when to adopt them

Self-centered to the point of pure loneliness

Homely to the nth degree

And quick to switch from what my peers are expecting

But they don't like me because I remind them of Saddam

I'm unoriginal, an idea thief

An overly dignified crook

And I can't keep to poem schemes

I'm an undeserving intellectual (at the expense of my family)

But they don't like me because of their geographic insensitivity

I fear too much and live too little

Cursed with thinking love is fortune cookie drivel

Emotions on a swivel, as ill-judging as a cudgel

With the self-esteem issues of a past pudgy teen

But they don't like me because I'm the Lawrence of Arabia

I'm residual with my memories

All the yesterdays bunch in collective conspiracy

To make my present a foggy mess of indecisiveness

I'm blighted by constant incontinence

But they don't like me because I bleed olive green

They don't like what I represent

and I despise the state of affairs

So we'll keep to this cloying game

This mawkish dance; this sickly, tenuous

scheme: I'll walk past shuffling

You'll pretend not to notice

I have nothing of value to say 

And the world spins begrudgingly