Ode to My Glasses

You’ve done the same thing for me since the 3rd grade.
All 36 pairs of you I broke while I played.
Black as night and thick as molasses,
damn, I got some dorky ass lookin’ glasses.

Because of you, I’ve been called Poindexter and 4-eyes.
I think it is because my prescription is so high.
I have broken, snapped, and lost you to spies,
but I have never turned my back on you
and put contacts in my eyes.

You rest on my nose and hang on my ears.
When other people wear you
they say it looks like they just drank 87 beers.

Remember the time you broke and I fixed you with tape?
Ever since then I could never get a date!
Dork, Dweeb, Nerd, and Chump,
those are the names I heard
while I used my index finger to push you up.
I wipe you with my shirt almost every hour;
I even lather you with soap when I’m in the shower.

Remember the time when that stupid kid socked me
in the face and broke you in half?
And then in your honor I grabbed him by his neck
and put my foot in his ass
At night I take you off and put you by the bed.
If I walked in traffic without you, I’d be dead!

Ode to my glasses, you were always there,
but I think it’s time to get a new pair.

– Louie Bustos

From a WritersCorps publication at Downtown High School
Poem of the Month: December 2007