Friday Poems

Recently, I was gently encouraged to bring back the idea of Friday Poems.

On his birthday last month, I read poems before I went through my dad's yearbook and set a few aside. Here's the first one from that stack.

Your Cue Card

Your dirty feet
left a face on my door.
Your dirty face
left some feet on my floor.
If I could hate you,
it would be my passion.
You got some nerve
to come on in that fashion!
Heads like yours
should sit on stools in bars.
Where the barmaid gets made,
talky, chalky, hopped up cars.
Someday your egg
is gonna crack.
Not in your beer,
but on your back.
Maybe you might not be a fool,
but what you know is nothing
you know cool.
If words got hurt
when abused,
All you say
would come out bruised.

I am beyond curious to know who he wrote this about!