Thanks, No

I harbor a bitch who can’t be pleased
“Thanks, but no thanks” is her motto
She emblazons it on a banner
and flies it high
She flaunts it on a sash
across her chest
as she stares you down
from behind her sunglasses
And boom!
You’ve lost a staring contest
you didn’t even know
you were in

She anatomizes you
Atomizes you

And take it from me:
That smile does not bode well
If you look closely
you’ll see it’s not a smile at all
It’s an acidic wince
She isn’t happy with your hair
or the length of your pants
or the way you clear your throat

She doesn’t like that one bit

Not that she cares
but she knows you don’t like her
She can read you like a book

Like a mass market paperback
she bought with a sneer
at the airport
because there was
literally nothing else
and now she’s stuck with it
and it’s a long
goddam
flight