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