look! it's a bad poem about renovating my ghetto apartment! and mullets! and the mullets are french! wow! read this! it's sooper dooper!

please do come in
[i adore mullets]
i will sit in my living room
unshowered
and chainsmoke seductively
as your rattail slaps against your
bare
hairy
back

i will wait patiently
in my kitchen
as you wade through my piles of
smelly work socks and my
ketchup stained tees
to fix something
with your
dirty
calloused
hands

you don't mind though
i havent done my dishes in a few days
mullets don't care
i'm too english for your small town quebec
i can only understand your facial expressions
mullets don't care
but the tension is unbearable
im scared that you are saying yucky things
so i leave
i grab the bard
and i walk across the street
and above my little book
and above my sixth cup of coffee
i watch you
and your rattail
until youre done

i hope you had fun
looking through my things
i hope you didn't leave anything behind

because i don't like mullets
and i really don't think i like you.


they start painting in two days. the mullets. in paint. i shall seek an english, mullet free zone. this is hard. too many english girls in this city have... mullets. ack.