So what if you’re perfect. So what if I’m a lazy, bad for your reputation punk who has nothing

o better to do than listen to how perfect you are and how perfect you life is so

what if you don’t like my guitar of my music or my slacker outlook on life so

w what if you have a boyfriend and I’m only friends with boys so what if you’re

h creating your blonde-haired blue-eyed race I guess that means we can’t be friends

a but I guess you’ve forgotten that my eyes are green and your hair isn’t naturally

t blonde so what if you’ll never touch beer or cigarettes or maybe something your

mother would shudder to hear about so what if you have something like a 600.5

i gpa and I only have something like 600.5 holes In my ears so what if you say

f you’re Christian and then spend your time talking behind God’s back and everyone

else’s back who is supposed to be your friend so what if you’ve got a model’s body and

y only know it too well so what if your ego is only as large as your dad’s

o monthly credit card statement after you bought that sweater ‘on sale’ at Neiman

u Marcus or was that put on your charge, I don’t remember so what if it takes you

‘ only six hours to fix your hair in the morning, just so it looks au naturelle, like you

r didn’t do a thing to it maybe you never thought about the fact that my hair is

e naturally curly and I don’t go through the same boot camp regime as you do and I

don’t need to hear about it for the 7 millionth time oh and don’t go out in the sun

p your face might melt off so what if I do all the work in this ‘friendship’ and guess

e what I’m happy I missed the latest pessimistic lecture on your life because I was

r having a lot more fun meeting new people and going new places and not calling

f you so I can hear more about how much you want to know about Dick and Jane

e and when they are going to break up so what if you need me to validate your existence

c while you’re making me feel like I need you to validate mine I don’t need

t you and your perfect world with no other culture besides your own on your climate-

controlled planet where no one eats anything and we all down 20 aspirin everyday and

then complain how much our heads hurt then you tell me that I have problems so what

if you laugh at me and my glorious imperfection tell me again how that eye-lash

curler got stuck up your ass so what if guys throw themselves at you and your lobster

linguine while I order salad with water on the side and then we have to split the cost of

lunch even-steven, right in half, straight down the middle when I’m almost broke

because you have no concept of money or market prices so what if you think you’re

perfect when you know that you’re not, all because you didn’t write this

poem

and I did . . .

so do you think you sound all that

PERFECT

now?

J

©Jenni Davenport