Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Pure Poetry.

My brother sent me this text tonight -- a photo of a poem I wrote to him when I was younger:

If you can't read it, here's a transcript:


My love for you Pete
stretches from here to Crete
it will outlast time
and unlike a mime
it proclaims loud and clear
that I hold you so dear
your picture I hold close to my heart
even though in the past in my face you would fart
hold me down on the floor
from your butt the juice would pour
I could not withstand
the force of your hands
holding me down
in your stench I would drown
the air would turn grey
but...I love you anyway

How do we know Jeffrey Dahmer was a careless smoker?
He left BUTTS behind the couch.*

*#1: The Jeffrey Dahmer reference dates this poem to approximately 1992, or me at 15. #2: I'm so sorry. That joke is terribly insensitive and I would slap my 15-year-old self up if I had a time machine. Who am I kidding? If I had a time machine I would slap my 15-year-old self up for perming my short hair:

My apologies to the victims' families.


Laura said...

Love it!

Rae said...

My brother also used to fart on me. And once he came home from rugby practice, took off his shirt, and surprised me by sticking his armpit in my face. I was very surprised and I bit his armpit. Almost 20 years later, he still tells people I licked his sweaty armpit when we were kids.

Chris said...

This, my dear, makes me wonder what Jeffrey's brother did to him....

Mom said...

Chris, now you are scaring me. Kady, I think you should sell your couch. People like you probably should not own couches.

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