She was brunette,
too,
young,
like me,
and I dreamed
and planned
and schemed
how to
date her,
and to what?
My German class
crush.
When I finally dared,
for the first time ever,
to ask her out,
heart in throat,
palms sweating,
stomach butterflying,
she said
she was
“too busy”.
Funny how some things
don’t change.
Maybe
it’s a brunette thing.
I have crushes on/
pretty women ’til they prove/
they lack English* skills.
OR
*writing
(Sung to the tune of “Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer”)
Well I’ve known brunettes
and redheads, accountants and funny ones.
Short ones and tall ones
and ones with hair bleached by the sun.
But do I recall
the greatest lover of all?
Not yet.
When you’re a nerd who’s/
crushing on a Goddess, you/
remember details.
I wear purple and/
dream of the day I can stomp/
Frank’s* face and crush him.
*Ed
(“Frank” is the name of my daughter’s eating disorder. Others might call him “Ed” — as in: “Eating Disorder” )
If you are worried
about Mom’s health, hold her hand./
She’ll crush your fingers.
I wonder what it/
would feel like to have someone/
like you crush on me?
If I text you that/
I have a crush on your deep [OR hot]/
genius, does that work?
I’ve learned that when you /
once had a crush, later you/
don’t like their face much.
While you worked, I was/
screaming, separating a/
rock crab from my thumb.