Wednesday, June 29, 2016

An Open Letter

I don't want to go to Uganda right now, dude.
I don't want to go to Uganda.
We're not breaking up; we're not locked in a row
I just don't want to go to Uganda.

Thanks for your worry that I'm missing out
On the Instagram trip of the decade
And for your concern that I've let myself go;
That I'll sleep in the boring bed I've made.

I know that you think every woman should want
To be absent her paramour never,
And that every BASE jumper that's worth his free shirt
Should be jumping to jump from wherever.

But even if I had a visa to flash--
Or the bangers to show up without it--
And even if I had the armful of cash
For the ticket, I'd cheerfully flout it.

Because, just like I chose not to fly to Tehran
And to make myself Princess of Persia,
I'm just doing less laundry, this week that he's gone,
Yet unslain by the club of intertia.

So I'm not going to go to Uganda right now,
'Cause I don't want to go to Uganda.
As it stands, I have something to do in Krakow,
And I don't want to go to Uganda right now.

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