I never liked your macaroni.
It was always too hard,
too chewy.
You always made a mouthful
out of molehill.

I said I was allergic to your cat
but really
I just didn’t like his smell
like something had died too long ago.
Maybe it was because he was a mouser
or maybe it was because he was old.
You didn’t find it funny that
when Cattington Q Whiskerston mysteriously disappeared
I never had a problem
being around your next cat, Hugh Fancy?
Huh. Imagine that.

You’re not as bright as you think you are
but that’s only sensible
since you’re actually pretty dumb.
A recent study showed
unsurprisingly
that dumb people
are more prone to incorrectly assess their own intelligence. Why did they bother with that obvious research?
Maybe dumb people conducted it.
Was it your study?
It could’ve been.

Looking at you
and your state of shock,
it’s hard to imagine you
any less beautiful than you are right now
but keep staring.
You might be able to beat your record
as the ugliest asshole in the world.

Sometimes it’s easier to speak truth
when bridges have already been burned
and apartments already trashed
and ex-boyfriends already refucked in the back of pickup trucks. Anyway, I’m glad we can be honest with each other
or, at least, that I can finally be honest with you.