Poetry

you have to be short for a guy
misshapen and ugly
as if your face was made with the flat
side of a shovel
in wet cement
to lurk openly in broad daylight and mean it
unintentionally
suspiciously
while every caress leaves you feeling
secretly filthy
and your doppleganger is out there
looking to deal with the devil
who is beautiful
white and expensive
no not us we say
I wish I were green
or striped like a mandrel’s genitals
I would lay baskets of poppycock before goldilocks
you just have to be ugly
small
to key the boxcars full of you know who
going you know where for you know what
to clear nostrils on red carpet
or valet service for a ufo under a carport
don’t go there
once you have seen one and talk yourself out of it
only to discover you are a liar much later
you revel in the freedom of hair coloring
hand-me-downs
even ghetto was begotten
by the same sow
huffing a cocktail
mixed by a slave
oh yes
yes
smaller and uglier even