AT THE PIZZERIA
Everything went from great, to eh, & then to crap
when you called my novel a novella. “I smell a rat,”
you said. Do rats have a smell? How do you know?
Your taste & your social graces need some revising,
so you might need to take some necessary steps:
the “Fox Trot,” the “Robot,” & the “Cotton-Eyed Joe”
for a start . . . asshole. It takes two to tango, i.e.,
haven’t you ever heard of a little thing called compromise?
I can never admit that I’ve got the hots for you,
but you’d see if you’d just look into my flaming eyes.
