Don'T You Just Hate It? (Or Is It Just Me?) Poem by David Whalen

Don'T You Just Hate It? (Or Is It Just Me?)



Don’t You Just Hate It? (or is it just me?

Having a doctor who looks eighteen years old
Not having two socks that match
Havin’ nausea and diarrhea, along with a cold
Usin’ public bathrooms with doors that don’t latch

Noticing no toilet paper, way after the fact
Toilet paper that tears vertically into confetti-like strips
While goin’ bouncy-bouncy, your dog noses in on the act
Movie stars silicon inflated, gross, fat, puffy lips

Teenagers inexplicable, selective deafness attacks
Unrecognizable substance, in your drained coffee cup
Havin’ a flat, late at night, and no spare and no jack
Noises your knees make, every time you stand up

Closed tellers and herds of bank employees doing zippo
Hot seats in the car and jumpin’ in wearin’ shorts
E Z open caps that really aren’t so
Multi-year, multi-million dollar contracts given freely in sports

The clicking sound from your starter when the battery’s stone dead
ignition keys dangling, seen from outside your locked car
Stoppin’ every block by traffic lights perfectly timed to turn red
Mustard and ketchup that refuse to come out of the jar

Dropped things that disappear, to be seen ne’er more
Zippers that refuse to go up or go down
Dog barking nonstop, twenty four hours, in the backyard next door
Women with makeup that makes them look like a clown

People on cellphones who insist on talking too long and too loud
People who panhandle on the side of the street
People who reek in a strong, pungent cloud
And have buffalo breath and aromatic feet

People who are flaky, people who are flabby
People who repeat over and over, “ya know what I’m sayin’? ”
People too busy to smile, people that are crabby
People who visit and way too long are stayin’

Or is it just me?

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David Whalen

David Whalen

Covington Kentucky
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