Site Navigation
Information
Prose
Poetry
Art
On the Stump
Serials
Question of the Week
About the Authors
Links and Awards
Message Board

Stephanie Scarborough
Stanley

Sweet Stanley, why are you afraid?
I never tried to hurt you--
Are you still mad because I made
Your likeness in a statue?

So maybe I was peeping in
The bathroom while you're shaving;
It's not like I was creeping in
Last night while you were bathing.

I didn't mean to scare you, Stan
When I was in your closet--
You are the nitrates in my Spam;
The water in my faucet.

Oh, Stanley, please go out with me--
I think I'll die without you!
I love you, Stanley, can't you see?
It says so on my tattoo.

Want to respond to this poem? Do it here!

Return to Poetry