Saturday, October 9, 2010

When I Told You

When I told you
my Great Fucking Tragedy (G.F.T.)
you treated it as though
I had just told you
about prematurely dead goldfish.
That's how you looked
at me, and then your words
were like you handing me
a bunch of ping pong balls
to go win more goldfish,
although you implied
they would probably die
prematurely in my care
as well. So you did a little
preconsolation dance
about that too. My heart
is ever like an octopus
trying to fuck a chandelier
that has fallen off the Titanic.
Fuck non-credit courses in hand-wringing.
I'm going to start listing
all you people as "traveling expenses."

No comments:

Post a Comment