Craft something wise…
I resent the request
Sarcasm seeps into the words
and I playfully rhyme trite collections
that make you smile and clap like
a trained monkey.
It isn’t me
It isn’t my work
It isn’t my inspiration
She isn’t my muse.
I’d draft a piece cursing creases in my
underwear and the gray hairs
springing up around my temples.
I’d tell someone unknown to kiss my ass
and focus on using curse words alphabetically.
I’d insult humanity obscurely and never worry
about punctuation or spelling
or grammar or repetition or repetition or repetition.
I wouldn’t let you sit there with a smirk on your
face and your spectacles balanced on the tip
of your wrinkled nose.
But you hold a red ballpoint pen and a grade book
You determine my GPA so I will oblige
I will comply
Only in this instance.