Ficlets

Brother Says {a poem, part 3 of 3}

He tells me I’ll meet a man soon
who will like me, though I’m a loon.
He says that in my search for a man,
I cannot change the person I am.
Brother says that he’s the younger,
but sometimes I have to wonder.

All of the leftovers mingled in the blender,
surrounded by a strange kind of fur –
his new recipe for a concoction that smells
and can’t sit too long before it gels.
He says it’s a fraternity hazing drink,
and adds that it sure does stink.
“It looks yucky; tastes even worse.
Swallowing it sure takes some force.
Try it – it’s certainly far from the best,
but it will put hair on your chest!�
I say that won’t help me get the guys;
with little more than a smirk he replies,
“You would not want them anyway –
if they’re that picky, they’re gay.â€?

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