Poem 20/30 you are a mushroom

you are a mushroom

you don’t throw birthday parties because you love too many people and can’t bear to leave anyone out you live in a studio apartment with a cat and your boyfriend when he’s in town he’s in three bands so he’s on the road a lot forgets to call you go out with your friends you have so many friends your mother calls you Miss Congeniality even though you’ve never watched a Miss America Pageant you can’t cook you bake zucchini bread and carrot muffins with raisins you’d rather munch than chew you order appetizers instead of meals shrimp puffs and coconut wings you are a mushroom making things better with no particular taste you’re ashamed of your dead plants you caught a mouse threw it out the window hide the television in the closet your sister’s a runaway whore she fucked your brother you never tell anyone about your genital warts your grandfather killed his second wife you write poems about your thighs do pilates your tit’s heavy enough to hold the diaries of anais nin you remove the television from the closet to watch american idol unless you’re boyfriend’s home everybody loves you because you really are a mushroom producing sunshine under ultraviolet lights, expanding fungus fruit bodies

© puma perl, 4/20/11