The Friend
you come home from work and want me
to behave, be good, be someone
you can look forward to coming
home to
but I’m afraid I’ve
found someone new to play
with. he’s fat and he’s gross but
he’s my new best friend
he shows me naked pictures and
he lets me smoke cigarettes.
if you could only see
all the fun we have together
you’d see why
I don’t need you anymore.
we run around naked
laugh at each other’s privates, and
he tells me I’m the prettiest girl
in the whole apartment
building. so don’t worry about
coming home, Mommy. I don’t need
you anymore.
Copyright © 2015 by Holly Day
Randomly Accessed Poetics 
Holly Day in passionate satire on modern life in a poem’s fixity of states of reality.
Your friend is a pervert Mommy.