To the French girls who
inexplicably
were uninterested in a ménage a trois
with moi:
your loss, babies!
I could certainly do better
than getting saddled with your perfect bodies
and hyper educated minds
for a night.
I dodged a bullet
for sure
and you,
you both just missed out
on a story you could dine out on
for generations!

Think about it:
how often
would you have the chance
to take part in
an accidental homicide?
There is no way
I would have been able
to survive an evening of excitement
with the likes of you
two.

You’d probably have gotten off
of charges for vehicular manslaughter
after taking me on the ride of my life
but the description
of the look on my face
when I received la petite mort
gigantesque
– how exploited
exhausted
and appreciative I appeared –
would have no doubt
kept you in drinks for weeks alone.

All of that opportunity
all that experience
lost
just because of your claims
to find me repugnant,
repulsive,
and – I don’t know what malodorant means,
but it don’t sound good.

Your loss, though,
toots one and toots two.
I’ll find someone else,
I’m sure,
to assist me
in my curious form of suicide.

Adios
(that means screw off)!