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My name is Milo Minderbender

Power struggles at home
beta male snapping at the top dog;

Gazing at Midday mates
perhaps a little less than the norm
lingering perhaps a little longer
at ads for male underwear;

Celebrating small triumphs with mousse
and crying into pillows for being a nobody;

Wondering every morning
whether to shave myself
or let the razor cut the jugular;

Waking early for exercise
but not before checking email;

Wild mood swings between vinaigrette salad
and cheese masala sandwich;

Reading the Dhammapada while failing at trying
not to think of a Canon Powershot SX 30;

And a serious desire to poison a puppy-poisoner.

My name is Milo Minderbender.
I am thirty years old.