POEM - Ugliest Sweater of All

The euphoria of winning

Can fade and wane

When it is a month later

And you have been forgotten

The Grand Prize

Nowhere to be seen

And you get to be put

In the awkward position

Of reminding the Marketing Department

That something fabulous was promised

            Last year it was fifty bucks!

            I think to myself

In excited anticipation

            Already planning out

            What fun I might have

            Counting the minutes until 5

But the prize that was being brought over

Right away . . .

With apologies . . .

Still didn’t arrive

Until midway through the following day

I guess it took that long

To dig through the promotional stuff

And piece together left-overs

That looked like some actual thought

Had been ever put towards it

I mean a can koozie, lanyard and leather folder

Are the supreme pinnacle

Of almost (but not quite) useful

But

            Well

                        See

                                    It’s like this . . .

I’ve never made out with my sister

But I imagine that this feeling I have

And the bad taste in my mouth

Are representative of the experience

So I sit here and fume

And put on my bitterness

Thick, warm and heavy

Like a sweater

The ugliest sweater of all