Poem that starts one way and then deconstructs itself, how typical of me

Napkins, pens, tablets, tomorrow deferred...
research allowed right after
thirty pulsing glowing disks
are scattered on the highway
to where you may have grown
out of the asphalt, diamonds, and shoe polish

this musk really smells
like musk
this heart really beats

I don't have to ask you anything
and you know the answer

I had a dream about Kanye West
"heartless" was playing
but instead of singing "can't stop"
he sang "I'm poor"

it was horrifying
in the way dreams are
that can't be explained

"not if everybody else does"
he answered

check the answer
for it might have already
been told

your lack of surprise
gets me laid

unpack that,
erasmus

dammit tao lin
i hate the fact
that you're handsome
and I want to pretend
that your movement is stupid
but really it makes me feel stupid

my poetry has a source
but everyone says its at the end
of its rope especially silliman kind of

and I don't want to be a tool poet
but I don't have the heart
to write like you do
to dress and stare blankly
in glossy alternative weeklies
not to make you feel bad
I think that's cool
but I hope one day
I won't be writing these poems
into a swirling universe
but that these poems
which I can't deny are my heart
will spread like seeds
or take wings
or win the gold medal
or something

i'm kind of like lorca
and ee cummings
but faggier
than cummings