she hounded me
with the tenacity
of a pit bull
of stepping on my hemline
at a dinner party
to pin me down as to my opinion of her poetry
i had avoided the question artfully for years
she so desperately sought my validation
and if she had to cut herself
to feel something
while self-promoting so shamelessly
i don’t do that
art is a learning process
critiquing makes me feel snobby
and i’m not so
but with every poem foist upon me
i was less able to contain my rage
at her flagrant ensemble
of a poseur’s beret
so that night i dispensed
with platitudes and pleasantries
explaining to her
i thought her work
had all the depth and originality
of a tv dinner &
she was good at being bad
8 replies on “spinal tap (these go to eleven…)”
TV dinner … very funny, all of it … now I don’t dare ask your opinion of my work. (But I enjoy this.) Thanks for it.
Thank you, David.
Cruel to be kind?
Tis the best way to be cruel…
I think you may have let her off easily.
Now, please comment on my incredible writing, immediately, with full and wholesome feedback. I am the best fiction writer in this nuthouse; discuss. An hypothesis has been put forward.
Your writing breaks its dick off in the reader…
I’ll take that.
Here, go read this: http://www.cbc.ca/books/canadawrites/2014/03/2014-cbc-short-story-prize-the-finalists.html
I’m too proud not to share.