I wrote this last January and never posted it. I think it's because I don't really like it, but fuck it, here it is.
Cut the freckles right off my face
they're as useless as a pocket full of paper lace.
Like the bump born to the bridge of my nose
How dare these genes impose!
The curse of the Hopper hips they say it will be
One day your straight as a Dogwood tree,
the next your trying to remember the proforma.
Though I do look more like my Grandma Norma
I didn't ask for this,
something somehow so amiss.
For a t-shirt that doesn't quite fit,
screen-printed with your name on it
handmade with nothing but the best intentions.
But that I won't mention.
Here in this place where I wait,
It sure is getting late.
Wow, real first rate.
Another one of my "Best of" plays as I sit
and makes me feel cheap.
Oh, sorry, wrong heap.
This one's "The Ultimate"...
Even more full of it.
Not unlike this poet.
That's not what you meant,
but I'm dragging it in tow
just like this state of mind
It'll be gone in no time.