friends like you
have to be taken
with a side-order of mischief.
nothing wrong with you,
just easier to deal with you
in a light-hearted way.
because otherwise you tend
to react upon me
like one of those plumb-weight jimmies.
who likes a bunch of lead in the stomach?
not i.
so i’ll plague you to death,
friend,
for the sake of my sanity.
if you gave me your picture
— the best shot of you ever —
right now i’d hold it out in the rain,
just because i’d be curious
to see you dripping off the page.
i’ve always tried to beat you
at everything i possibly could.
maybe you’ve given up?
you would.
not i.
and if this is some final, last-ditch effort to outsmart me …
well, then.
i’ll beat you at beating me.
so see if i don’t.
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