Wednesday, March 7, 2012

a Wednesday poem. for you. just because.

I'd like to pass this on because it is so ridiculous and cute but also cutting and poignant.
I don't think as many people know about this poem as they should.
It isn't a marvelous one for the ages, or one you should post on your wall.
It is just a good Wednesday-afternoon-perched-on-the-edge-of-a-migraine poem with incredible simile.

I hope you like it.

by Maya Beerbower

I enjoy you the way that one
enjoys eating uncooked tofu. You're enjoyable
like listening to an old man mouthbreathe
behind me in a dark movie theater, like
walking through Chinatown's seafood market
on trash day in the rain.
I feel good about you in the same way
I feel good about pulling strands of someone
else's wet hair from the shower drain or forcing
a worm onto a fishhook with a dull squish
or going through my father's freezer trying to identify
dinner from things-to-feed-the-snake.
Other women can still love you
because they don't know how you leave
chewed off fingernails
on counters. They don't know
you won't wash out the sink after
you shave and I find the stubble
in my toothbrush, or that you refuse
to turn on the air conditioning when it's 103 degrees
because you say it makes your skin look bad.
Other women don't know you're a sissy.
I cannot love you due to:
d) all of the above.
Also, because you ask me to tie your shoes,
and I mean you ask me all the time.

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