Blubber

Hey old man: This is for you, specially. With love.

I found a morsel of beauty for your consideration,

from the bottom of my soul:

Enjoy that pickled blubber you call wife, you fool.

Learn to love the relentless chatter

day in, day out

in your face, on your phone,

in your house, on your bed.

In your bloody head.

It's simply too delicious to imagine:

Your walking/talking penis surrounded by it,

your body drowning in layers,

the whiney breath upon your cheek,

those flakey fingers crawling upon your skin.

Oh joy! A triumph.

Forget unicorns, laughter is much better for me. 

Isn't that just awful to admit,

utterly unkind.

Yet great in it's awfulness.

I laugh my eyes to tears when I see the words,

out loud, blurted from the inside of my living room.

Rats say "It's fabulous, darling".

Rats are ever so pleasing.

Unlike unicorns.