How To Murder Your Mate Poem by Juan Olivarez

Why do I hate you so my love?
Cause you're lazy fat and smell?
You used to be such a lovely dove.
But what you are now no one can tell.

I know I am not Errol Flynn,
Heck, I'm not even Lou Costello.
But you just stuff your face and grin,
And then you top it off with jello.

A hit man is what I need to find,
One that is efficient neat and clean.
To carry out what I have in mind,
A real hard case, a veritable fiend.

He must work cheap, cause I greatly fear,
That I am running low on funds.
Maybe I should just cut back on beer,
So I could afford a gun.

Or a big knife could do the trick,
Or just a rope around the neck.
Oh hell, I'm feeling kinda sick,
I'm just a big old nervous wreck.

If I cut down, to three packs a day,
I could save a bundle fast.
I could play the ponies, and I just may,
Have enough to hire the best.

Or play the lottery every day,
Until I win a million bucks.
Then my plan won't be delayed,
Maybe I'll have a change of luck.

Or maybe I'll just stay in bed,
The way she eats she just can't last.
I'll just make sure that she's well fed,
I'll get food stamps, and she'll go fast.

8/10/10 Alton Texas