Poetry, Ugly.

Succinct
as sparsely
sprinkled parsley.

Straight to the point.
Truth protrudes
puncturing your trust,
penetrating your chest.

Thorny, horny
hungry, thirsty –
desperately flirty flirts,
they’re just the worst.

Sincere?
Sarcastic?
I suspect I’ll never say
nor spell it out
(that’s where it gets its magic).

But it doesn’t matter
if they laugh at you or with,
cause all press is good press
and every click is a good click.

Poetry, Ugly
angsty, never cuddly,
marinated messy musings
making mild millennial humour.

© Rylan Skelly, July 2018


About the Author: I have a B.A. in Honours Religious Studies from the University of Waterloo; I have a love for all major world religions – Eastern, Western, or in between; I’m genderqueer, and I’m comfortable with male, neutral, and female pronouns; I’m married to my dear wife Lynn, who is the love of my life, my best friend, and my muse; I think far too much, and often have too many ideas to know what to do with; and I am a doing being, just like you!

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Rylan Skelly View All →

I have a B.A. in Honours Religious Studies from the University of Waterloo; I have a love for all major world religions - Eastern, Western, or in between; I'm genderqueer, and I'm comfortable with male, neutral, and female pronouns; I'm married to my dear wife Lynn, who is the love of my life, my best friend, and my muse; and I am a doing being, just like you!

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