Poem of the Night

Nothing Personal

This poem was written out of
a deep dark stomachache.
It had to fight its way up
through a rotten mood
and a foul mouth to issue
in snarls, curses, tongueouts,
obscene fingers and broken
beer bottles to be hurled
at you, busybody reader:
Beat it! Go away! I'm not
writing today. But it's
nothing personal: Come back
tonight, when the full moon
falls in my Scotch and all's
well on the patio with
my lots of friends, and I'll
kiss your ass and make it well.

~Everette Maddox