good to get off the chest.
I'm usually quite pious
when it comes to love and hate
a little smile goes a long way,
and who am I to judge a sad face?
but you, my dear, you
ruin every last of my vows and virtues.
there is not an inch of worth to your existence.
not a talented bone in your precious little body,
not an intelligent cell in your booze-fried brain,
not a humble word resting between your teeth.
you thrive on the spotlight of harsh words,
so maybe I'm still just filling your dirty dog bowl,
but these are the words I know we're all thinking.
I'm far from the Janice to your Regina, trust me.
I'm astounded, not obsessed
at how ridiculous a human being you are.
so, laugh now.
throw your head back and call me names,
but revel in this privilege
of a poem named after you
while it still lasts
while you're sitting in your baby-stained shack,