An Ode to Romney

You make me feel uncomfortable.
And this is coming from the girl who feels perfectly comfortable
doing a velociraptor impression
through Time’s Square.
Oh, Romney.
The way you smirk sometimes gives me the willies.
The “heebie-jeebies,” if you will.
When you change the subject to talk about
what YOU want to talk about,
I am somehow reminded of every
single condescending professor,
relative,
“friend,”
and high school girl who ever
changed the subject
in order to talk about
what they wanted to talk about.
Oh, Romney.
How I long for you to stop smirking like that.
You look like you’re staring at
the most delicious and enticing
steak you’ve ever not been given-
staring longingly across the restaurant
at the steaming, juicy steak
that you are just longing to possess
in the depths of your jaws.
I feel uncomfortable writing this about you.
It makes me feel strange.
You make me feel funny.
Not ha-ha funny.
But uncomfortable funny.
Romney.