This was the second of my poetry assignments for my creative writing class. I really changed the tone in this one, compared to the depressed, isolated and lonely tone of my 1st poem (see My 1st Poem, January 21st 2005). This one, well, judge for yourself.
Hey Buddy
Your smell is disgusting
like old trash exposed to the summer’s heat.
Your style is ridiculous!
If it’s not your polyester shirt decorated with unknown stains,
it’s your jeans you’ve been holding on to since the Nixon administration.
Don’t you think it’s time to move on?
The way your hair is everywhere,
it’s wild and uncontrollable.
The people at Rogaine want your secret to rapid hair growth
When you speak it makes me cringe,
as if I was in grade school again,
and Mrs. Jones is running her nails down the chalkboard.
Even the slightest thought of it makes me want to hurl,
but if you had a taste,
It’d probably be comparable to spoiled milk.
I’m sorry,
you’re as attractive as the mold growing in the fridge.
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