Taste (an acrostic poem)

Image: i.pinimg.com/236x/0e/09/b8/0e09b810d010836ac9fa8c2d7ea6caeb–dress-code-milan-fashion.jpg

Those stripes will be yummy with a dash of polka dots

Adding the mismatched pink and green fluorescent socks to further spice it up

So put together a feast for your soul and embrace who you are

There might be people who want to throw up a bit when they see you walk down the street but…

Everyone has a different fashion palate when it comes to style.

I Was Okay With That (a 300 word story)

I was sitting on the couch the other night with my ex-girlfriend.  She had come over for a couple of beers and the football game.  I was hoping for more, but nope.  She just wanted my cable and beer.  The strange thing was I was okay with that.

“So just admit that you miss me,” I said.  Okay.  Maybe, just maybe,  I wasn’t entirely okay with that.

“I miss hanging out with you,” she said.  “That’s what tumbled into a relationship, remember?”

I chuckled.  “You said tumbled.”

“Of course I did,” she said before taking another swig of her beer.  “I was a journalism major.  I pick my words carefully.”

That made me feel a bit uncomfortable.  “So you broke up with me because of the sex?”

“The sex was pretty good.”  I began to beam, but then almost lost my beer when she smacked me with a pillow.  “I said pretty good, not the best.”

Now I put on a pouty face.  “You didn’t complain at the time.”

“I told you, the sex was good.”

“Then why did you break up with me?” I asked.

“Because after a while you acted like you were God’s gift to women.”

I was kind of scared to touch that one with a ten-foot pole, but I couldn’t let it slide.  That wouldn’t be me.  I decided to play it cute.  “But what if I am?”

“I want a gift receipt so I can exchange you for a nice pair of super fuzzy socks.”

I clutched my beer to my mortally wounded heart.  “Ouch!”

She laughed and turned back to the game.  I saw the woman I had fallen for, but I knew that she was happier now that we had broken up.  The strange thing was I was okay with that.

 

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Wiggle Room (an acrostic poem)

When push comes to shove

It didn’t really matter if he chose white or black socks

Going along those lines socks were totally optional even

Glenn still sat there in his boxers, trying to figure out what to do

Looking at the rest of his intended outfit he smiled ruefully

Eventually he had to choose

 

Really there was only one decision that could make him happy

On went one black sock, then one white sock

Obviously if he got sick of them he could take them off

Making that the best decision he made that day

 

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