Like a thong stuck in a crack,
You sure are irritating.
Like a sticky sweet,
You get stuck in my teeth and bug me
long after the sweetness has faded.
You're the ground coffee
at the bottom of a cup
that just ruins
what was a pleasant experience.
I visualize myself,
to the backyard shed I don't have,
fetching the shovel I don't own,
and whacking you over the skull.
That little fantasy leaves me feeling slightly calmer.
But you're still the thong in my crack.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: love