It's Friday
which means it's crazy where I live.
The noise level went from a box fan
to stadium seating
to what are we eating for dinner tonight?
I'm only in college, good grief.
Why can't my roommates follow directions
on a box of Kraft mac 'n cheese?
Butter. Milk. Water. Noodles. Process powdered cheese.
Use the microwave dammit!
Climb a dollar tree!
There's a week old polish dog
sitting in the fridge. It has a nice green mustache.
That means it's aged well and should be
taken seriously.
'Just eat it Gary! It's green!
Green means it's healthy! '
He told me my eyes were fat
after that.
Friday night... light me up Pandora
and lock my door, uh...
don't slip me notes under the crack
asking if you can borrow my car.
Samantha is the girl next door
Gary wants to pound. He's gay. He still doesn't get it.
It's okay. I told him to walk into the closet,
find his balls, then walk out again...
Eleven p.m. here in Boston on Friday night-
almost Saturday. Nobody has much to say
at a donut shop on Saturday morning,
because nobody is there!
Everyone will wake up at noon
and ask what's for breakfast
and there will be a now questionable
eight day old polish dog
sitting in the fridge...
Dude. You should just give this a 2. a 6 is like telling me I have a chance at being a poet. Are you saying I have a chance unknown rater?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
old polish dog sitting in the fridge... I am not unknown rater but voter for you