LOU RASMUS

She has zits
on her tits
and she thinks that
makes her ugly.
She thinks to herself,
no one will love me.
But I love her.
Because even though
she has zits
on her tits
her lips are sweet,
and she drinks
with me,
and when she
reads my poetry
she smiles
at the words
like she smiles
when I kiss her.
The other shit
doesn’t matter.