I was invited to contribute a story on “mirrors” to a blog.  While I wrote it, I inserted a “poem” about mirrors as a place holder.  The editor deleted it because poems are not stories.  Woah, censorship!  Fascism!  No, those weren’t my reactions.  I felt guilty for breaking the rules of someone else’s blog, especially with something so inane.  As penance, here is the alleged poem:

 

Hey ugly fat old man

what do you think you are doing

just standing there staring at me like that

with your face covered in shaving cream?

What happened to that young guy

you people used to have

on the other side of the mirror?

Did he get bored hanging around?

Went looking for somewhere more interesting

to hang out?

You may as well stick around,

I suppose.

I hate to think who they might send

to replace you,

if you were to go.

You’ve got his nose, you know.

You two related?

How come you got so many ugly people

over there?

***

Pathetique. Its less pathetic, when its in French.