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155th Weekly Poetry Contest honorable mention: Odd?

by Miles T. Ranter

I fear snakebites,
dogs with no hair,

shrill siren-blare,
and my neighbor, Todd.
Why do you care?

You think I’m odd,
a piece of work,
but like my bod.

There are some jerks
who throw a fit
and go berserk

and start to hit
for the slightest thing.
Akin to a pit

viper’s sting,
the venomous words
they often fling

are no more absurd
than your attack
of this brittle bird.

Your frightful flak’s
like a feline’s hiss.
I rub your back,

yet you won’t kiss
me anymore.
Oh, what is this,

this stuff you pour
like acid rain
upon the shore

of my migraine?
Oh, why do you go
to your cousin, Jane’s,

with me as though
I were still your mate?
I just don’t know

why you’d want a date
with such a freak
with all those traits

you hate. My beak’s
too big. Big deal!
So for a week

I’ve worn high heels.
For three whole nights
I’ve had no meals.

I fear bright lights
and lofty heights,
but my biggest fright?
Your slightest slight!

155th Weekly Poetry Contest