Christina: Will, Christina Johnson. And we are so glad to have you. It's such a thrill to see a man from Bel-Air Academy not afraid to share our love of poetry.
Will: Yeah, thanks, Christina. Yo, on with the love sharing.
Christina: Well, you can start by reading a poem for us.
Will: I didn't bring one.
Christina: Oh, that a shame. There's nothing that moves me more than hearing a poem recited in a deep, sensual, masculine voice.
Will: [deep voice] I got a poem.
Christina: Who's it by?
Will: Uh, he's a street poet. He's a friend of mine. His name is Raphael de la Ghetto. [winces]

Christina: Raphael de la Ghetto. I don't think I've ever heard of him.
Ned: I have.
Will: You have?
Ned: I stay pretty current, bro. Isn't he one of those street poets from south central LA?
Will: Yeah. Yeah. Same guy.
Elizabeth: Will, the floor's yours.
Will: "Floor's yours." You're a poet and you don't know it.
Elizabeth: I am a poet and I do know it.

Christina: That poem was brilliant. De la Ghetto uses a lot of metaphor.
Will: Oh, no, baby, he used to. He went to the clinic. He's straight now.
Christina: I'd love to hear more of de la Ghetto's poems. As a woman, I find his work so passionate, so raw, so exciting. When I hear those words, my body just quivers crying out for more.
Will: [to camera] Poetry is good. [nods]

Christina: They seem really nice.
Will: Yeah. They mean well. But the only people I'm really comfortable with are my friends. The dead poets.

Christina: You know, I can't get de la Ghetto's poem off my mind.
Will: Yeah, he is a genius, isn't he?
Christina: Do you really, really know him?
Will: Yeah. We're like brothers.
Christina: Tell me, Will. What's he like?
Will: He's a kind of a strange guy. His girl left him back in the '60s and he never changed his clothes. Wears the same old dashiki and monster afro.
Christina: That's such a sad story.
Will: I know. When I think about poor Raphael, it makes me wonder if a woman could ever really care about a man.

Christina: Will, I'm glad you know him so well, because I have a favor to ask you.
Will: Anything.
Christina: Could you bring Raphael to poetry night?
Will: Excuse me?
Christina: We have it at school once a month. You see, usually club members get up and recite their poetry. I'm in charge of it this month and I thought, "Wouldn't it be great if we had a real poet?"
Will: Well, I don't know, Christina. Raphael really doesn't like to leave the house. You wouldn't either if you had the same dashiki on for 20 years.
Christina: Could you just ask him, Will? I'd be so grateful.
Will: I could ask him, baby, but I'm sure he'll say no.
Christina: Well, please try, Will. It would mean so much to me. [they kiss]
Will: Yo, he'll be there.

Jazz: Is he gone yet?
Will: Jazz, did you hear any of that? This is getting out of control. I need a phony poet tonight.
Jazz: What does he have to do?
Will: He just has to have a big afro, a dashiki and stand in front of a crowd and read some stuff I'll write.
Jazz: He has to be able to read?
Will: Yes, Jazz.
Jazz: That'll cost you two extra Jacksons, but I know a guy. He's a sidewalk jewelry salesman so he has free nights. But he'll need $60. Cash. In advance.
Will: $60? Are you tripping? All I got is $20.
Jazz: He'll take it.
Will: Here's an extra $10. Get me a Rolex.

Will: [as Geoffrey] "Cannon to the left of them Cannon to the right of them"
Philip: Oh, I'm sorry I missed that.
Ashley: So Jazz went out with Christina, huh?
Will: Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's cool, though, baby. I'm a poet, and it's a lot more ink in this pen.
Vivian: I think you have a talent for poetry.
Will: Oh, come on, Aunt Viv. I was just playing around with that stuff.
Hilary: But the poem that you wrote got a standing ovation.
Geoffrey: That's right, and it got me a date.
Ashley: And the other one you wrote got Jazz a date.
Carlton: And the one I got out of your wastebasket got me a date.

Ashley: Mommy, I'd like to hear a poem. Could you read us one?
Hilary: Okay. This is a poem that your father and I especially love. It's by Amiri Baraka. It's called Three Modes of History and Culture. "l think about a time When I will be relaxed When flames and nonspecific passion Wear themselves away And my eyes and hands And mind can turn And soften And the songs will be softer And weight the air"
Will: [to camera] If you'd like to learn more about poetry, you can reach us at... [laughs] Psych. We just kidding. Good night, y'all.