Either

[tommy's ghost]

I hit the bed diagonally,
A line across the 4:59 PM.
Either/Or pools in my ears.
Something with so much meaning
is lost on I, a forehead of a beach.
I dream of mountain goats braying diary entries
atop lofty peaks where clouds seem real,
and not just ghosts of five minutes ago.
But, I awake five minutes later,
Six minutes after 2:45 AM,
Realizing that not enough people listen to Elliott Smith,
And that Eliot was right in saying we are hollow men;
For my dreams are lost on I, a shot-glass.

Watch yourself drown, Elliott.
Watch yourself over-flow, Eliot.

[The Personist]

Elliott* Smith.

[tommy's ghost]

Elliott* Smith.

Can I attempt to save my ass by saying that I did that for artistic purposes?

[The Personist]

Can I attempt to save my ass by saying that I did that for artistic purposes?

No, because you already fixed the typo and it's not artistic when you're talking about Elliott Smith as being Elliott Smith.

:-p

[tommy's ghost]

No, because you already fixed the typo and it's not artistic when you're talking about Elliott Smith as being Elliott Smith.

:-p

It might've been a fusion of T.S. Eliot and Elliott Smith.

[The Personist]

It might've been a fusion of T.S. Eliot and Elliott Smith.

No. Plus you already fixed it in the body of the poem.

[tommy's ghost]

Yes. What cunning wit and wonderful artistry.

Why, thank you.

[The Personist]

hahahahaha