Grouch

325329420_tp[1]

I passed a man who offered me a pink
advertisement for local Asian food,
and after I refused, I came to think
on my resentful bothered attitude
at homemade evidence of enterprise –
a flyer rubberbanded to each gate
or doorknob: Does the color wound my eyes?
Can waste-of-paper instigate this hate?

If I’m to state it honestly (why not?
I seldom cheat at solitaire, and see
no point to self-delusion), then I’ve got
to recognize: the issue is in me.
I’m daily irritated by how slight
my fellows seem,
as if I had it right.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s