Monday, March 22, 2010

Roommate From Hell

The roommate from hell knocks on doors, whistles loudly.
Shuffled feet, swishy pants fill the wooded hallway.
Knock two times, thrice he opens my door
his woolly hair massing together in a type of Jewish fro.
That breaks my concentration,
my frustration boils over.
Answering his pointless questions with short answers,
as he gallivants forth.
"Hey I never noticed that quilt before," he chatters unaware
that the tops of my arms are shivering, on end hair.
"I don't know where it came from," I answer back,
hoping he'll get the message and GET THE FUCK OUT!

1 comment:

  1. Dang, that's a serious one. You sure don't like that roommate of yours.
    Does he ever get the point to get out?