Rain ponchos are for cowards

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder
And absinthe makes that Tetris-themed foursome seem like a better idea
Kind of like that pair of self-cleaning woollen bicycle shorts
That the man on television sold so convincingly
Regret is a universal emotion
But inner-thigh chafing is an agony endured alone
It’s a sad fact of life that invalid rings don’t come in more flattering colours
And that you never know what you’ve got till it’s gone
Although I might have to dispute that last one
After all, these hemorrhoids are still here
And I’m very, truly aware
Nothing says “They loved you but it’s over”
Quite like several hastily purchased gourds, fifty-six moist towelettes
And the half-eaten debris of a single-sized mattress scattered down six city blocks
Sometimes it’s best to leave a voice-mail message
And just let these things peter out
It’s a little-known medical fact that every human tongue-print is unique to its owner
Which is a helpful thing to know before exacting oral revenge
On the pickup trucks of one’s enemies
And then trying to blame it on the goldendoodle who was wandering nearby
Rain ponchos are for cowards
Pinstriped fedoras are for those who’d like to spend perpetual puberty in style
What remains unclear is for whom turkey-flavoured Kleenex is intended
That may be one of life’s unsolved mysteries
Just like the existence of unsweetened applesauce
And the face of Pope Francis on that guy’s knee


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