Your Mom Sucks

August 23, 2013

Your mom sucks the way that old ladies do
when they spit all over your face just to wipe off
a speck of dirt that probably isn’t even there.

Your mom sucks the way that decrepit teachers do
when they lean over your shoulder to tell you how much
work they know you aren’t doing.

She is a lady of small talk; oh how are you? I am good,
thanks, how are you? Oh boy, to get her to speak her mind!
Though profound words would not be heard, at least something
with feeling – give me something with that!

Her food needs salt and she needs spice. I imagine eating her would
taste rough and she would need excessive condiments. Your mom
might taste good dipped in ketchup and doused with salt but she would
sit in my stomach and refuse to come out because she will be too busy
telling my insides everything they are doing wrong. Pump that blood
faster! You’re going to make a big mess!

Your mom sucks the way a woman who can’t sing screams high-pitched
lullabies to a newborn baby. She sucks the way menstrual cycles make my
muscles strain and my feet weak.
Your mom is a silent judge in a courtroom called life
and the verdict is always GUILTY.

Your mom is an itch I can’t scratch, she is a rabid raccoon
running nowhere fast in the middle of the day when she should
only come out at night.

Your mother has a broken wing. She broke it herself.

Your mom sucks.

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