Things I Hate

Okay, it’s been raining for three days, so now I’ve had it. I’m just in one of those moods where I hate everything, esp . . .

1. People who live in California. They always brag about the weather.
2. Family values.
3. Learning in the first five minutes of a conversation that someone went to Harvard.
4. Best selling authors who ask: why do you write poetry?
5. Pinchy bras. I vote with Kelly for the uni-boob style.
6. Dentist drills. Why can’t they invent one that sounds like Mozart? Or Bob Dylan?
7. Anyone who wants to save me. Especially when they’re at my door, dinging and dinging, and I answer, hoping it’s the UPS man.
8. Football coaches. They remind me of George Bush.
9. Victoria’s Secret, nylons, thongs and anything that clings to the crevices.
10. Insomnia. Or worse, those dreams when I dream I can't wake up.
11. The feeling, right before I give blood or a poetry reading.
12. Christmas, sermons, and organ music.
13. Saying goodbye.
14. Ice cold salad. Like the pre-made ones in restaurants. Or Salad Under the Sea: green jello, things within.
15. Four o'clock in the afternoon. Too early for dinner, too late for inspiration and a cappuccino.
16. Shaving heifer necks.
17. Talking on airplanes. Or during sex. (I like to enjoy my flights, thank you very much.)
18. Three days of rain. And the aftermath: the song of a bazillion and one mosquitoes.