You'Re Good With Hammers Poem by Belle Violet

I'm not a college entrance exam
or an SAT test.
I don't care what your GPA was,
or how many A's
were on your report cards.
I care that your brain
tells your body to breathe,
and your heart to beat.
I care that you understand me;
and you do.
And for the record,
I'm no rocket scientist.
I'm pretty smart, sure,
but to be fair, so are you.
Put me on a roof though,
I'd probably fall off or fall through.
And don't let me
get near
a toilet.
Was this country not founded
with bridges, and buildings and cars?
By men that worked hard?
It certainly hasn't survived
because somebody thought
our poems were nice.
Fifty years from now,
there will still be those houses
you built.
We'll see if anyone remembers
my poetry book.
I'm good with words,
and you're good with hammers.
That doesn't mean that one of us
is smarter than the other.
So build me a bookcase
and I'll fill it up for you
with thousands of poems
about how much I love you.