My Love Is Like a Red, Red Rose
My love is like a
red, red rose:
All spiky leaves
and thorny,
Crawling thick
with icky bugs;
Too bad I’m always
horny.
My love is like a
field in bloom:
Dirty, unkempt,
rank with weeds;
It’s just my
goddamn bad luck
That I’m packing
what he needs.
My love is like a
sunset dream,
Or nightmare that
never ends;
I ask when he’ll
get a life,
He just answers,
“That depends.”
My love is like
the deep blue sea:
Salty, stormy and
all wet;
I hope the jerk
will dry up
But it hasn’t
happened yet.
My love is like a
pure white dove:
Sharp beak,
squawking to be fed,
Pinfeathers, bird
mites and germs;
Tends to shit
right on my head.