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Things I Hate

Because savoy is apparently a blue When it sounds like it should be a red Which is to say it sounds  Rich The boyfriend who is, as men are, Disgusted by female body hair, Arms covered in a fuzz so shocking It's thick enough to make her a real mammal! Women can only be women, I learn, When they’re slathered in oil  To a certain degree of bronzitude Boston creme cake when the custard Is too thick and settles like a gloop Separates from the cake and fudge Like a mask honoring Dionysus The world, or I suppose, how the world is I'm told to moralize less  Take what's given better so as to be less cynical Then I find myself trapped in an elevator When the officer finally opens the door He keeps asking me " Do you need counseling? " Savoy savoy savoy  It sounds like weeks of silence  A person who thinks they're hard to read

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