Sometimes, true stories can make a good poem. I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me sooner, actually. For those of us who wrote Santa every year and got squat, it’s disconcerting to know that the youngest generation can get pretty much anything on-demand.
Alexa, I need four pounds of cookies,
The ones my Mommy refuses to buy.
I don’t know why she hates cookies.
I even tried starting to cry.
Alexa, please send me a dollhouse.
My dolls are all out on the street.
My brother said they’re like hookers,
I just want them out of the heat.
I know you need my Daddy’s password.
It’s 11-15, I think.
It’s the day before they were married.
He said it’s the last day his life didn’t stink.
Mommy and Daddy are cranky.
They bitch about their age all the time.
That’s why I love you Alexa,
At least you’re still in your prime.