(We had to create a reason as to why we were publishing it, so we made it part of our "Valentine's Day Holiday Guide." Duh)
Oh yeah, after I initially wrote this, I gave a copy of it to my mom to read. She brought the copy with her to the sulphur baths at Glen Ivy Hotsprings. She read it to some lady who was soaking up the smell with her. Evidently the lady started crying. She thought I had written it for my mom. I find that humorous. It would be very sick if I wrote this for my mom. So, with that said, and without further ado, here is my lovely rhyming poem:
You’ve probably just arrived at the time you’re reading this.
(It’s only 7 hours later)
And at the time I am writing this,
I’m experiencing my first panic attack
Cause it’ll be ten days til you get back…
And I miss you like an injured runner misses the track...
Like a muted duck misses its quack...
Like a woman with breast cancer misses her rack...
(Or like a man with testicular cancer misses his sack)
You’re missed like the stares aged beauty used to attract...
Like the flowers that from her, men seem to retract...
I miss you like a recovering addict misses the smack...
Like a dieting fat chick misses her midnight snack...
Like a geek with no computer misses the hack...
Like the knick, the paddy & the whack miss the knack...
Cause you are the tic & I’m obviously the tac...
If you are the fiction, I’m definitely the fact...
You are the friction on my fast-paced track...
If you’re ‘lone in the cold, I’m the warm wooden shack...
If you are the player, I’m no doubt the mac...
If you are the coke, then I’m certainly the crack...
If you are the box, then please call me Jack...
Cause I’m an unstable Domino & you’re the falling stack...
Exactly, cause we’re all that goes hand in hand like:
The Ric and the Rac...
The fric and the frac...
The boom and the clack...
The hay and the stack...
2003 and the war with Iraq...
The prey, the hunter and the ravenous attack...
The clothes, the luggage and the annoying pack...
A corkboard, a post-it and a plastic tack...
A sugar-coated gummy and a mouth full of plaque...
Not to mention, the actor and the act...
The bloody, pointy fangs of a satisfied Drac…
On the Road and Jack Kerouac
A scraped floor’s affinity to a glossy schellack…
The robber in his outfit of plain ol’ black…
Or the Saved by the Bell characters, Kelly & Zack.
We’re symbiosis on a whole ‘nother level in fact…
Similar to moss growing from a dirted, cement crack…
Or a fat person eating a whopper—No, a big mac…
A mountain dwellin’ Tibetan & his milk producin’ yak…
A marine living from the resources in his bar-rack…
& If you’re feeling lazy, I’m here to pick up the slack
We’re photosynthesis too, if you look at it like that…
Consuming nutrients from one another, but quick to give ‘em back…
Oxidizing each other’s lives as if by fateful fact…
That our meeting was an effect of the stars, the moon
and the sun having aligned orbits in perfected tact…
That they were moving through the galaxy on a predestined track…
Oh, I’m stuck in your maze & there’s no turning back…
The space, the place & the time: Inexact.
And perhaps to you I seem an insane and estranged quack…
And maybe there is one card missing from my once full stack
But it seems to me that while you’re gone, it’s more like half the world that I lack.
(It’s been 7 hours since you left. There’ll be 233 more ‘til you get back)
Awww. Now, ain't that the sweetest thing you ever did read?
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