Troll Vibes

When Mainers get choleric about late fall weather

and gripe about 40 degree temps - I’m not ready for this - 

an odious part of me wants to say, So what are you fucking ready for?

It says other things too, the odious part, snarky shit, like,

Sorry you’re unhappy about this mild December day,

I’m personally upset I must touch pork to make a meatball.

This odious part, once it starts flapping its ugly hole, 

shouts at trashcans and bitch slaps the wind,

overshares stories of mild personal conflict as savage traumas -

How my 6th grade teacher accused me of cheating at simple math,

How my period arrived on the trip to the pool and I was given pads,

How some parents prefer their pets to their kids -

But I never let troll entirely loose, and instead cluck along, 

Oh yes, so hard, winters in Maine, and it’s just beginning!

then duly lighten the mood with one of God’s great gifts,

Gorgeous, how the dew bejewels stands of white pine,

Incredible, how the sun illuminates the last season’s goldenrod

but what I want is to write a feral poem about meteorological chitchat -

Shut up, you sniveling dick, North Atlantic Oscillation

doesn’t give two shits about your need for constant sun,

so how about you blow your nose in any direction but my fucking face,

and while we’re at it, your fleece is covered in so much cat hair 

I’m expecting you’ll find a warm spot by the window where you can

watch for birds and lick your ass with your papillated tongue!

Once the odious poem has been written and troll is avenged,

I can brew a cup of ginger tea and wrap myself in goose down 

since it’s almost winter here in Maine and it is fucking cold.