Ode to HCB, in Free Verse

HCB, you are Hot and Canadian, and my Boyfriend.
But I love you for so much more than that.
You are the inspiration for my Year of Nothing New.
Everybody knows your name at the local Goodwill. Sometimes you go more than once a day.
You've never met an abandoned vacuum you didn't want to rehabilitate.
When you disappear for a few hours on the weekends, I know I'll find you on Haight Street, hoarding previously owned fashions and sniffing old leather jackets.
You're the only person I know who can take a sodering iron to a COMPUTER and not kill yourself or the hardware.
You have twice as many jeans and shoes as I do. And you paid a third of the price.
You love cool old furniture. And even though it's almost never the same cool old furniture I love, so it takes us months to agree on every single god damn piece, Ugly Betty is now a miniature masterpiece.
With your current facial hair arrangement, you need only a healthy dose of eyeliner and you'll be qualified to tie me to a train track. And yet, I find you even more adorable.
You can and do fix EVERYTHING. Your handiness is not only terribly envy-inducing among my friends; it's also sexy.
Which leads me to my final point. You have a butt of godliness. I like to check it out while you're on ladders replacing light bulbs and crawling under the sink.



I thank my lucky stars for finding you and your thrift-happy ways, and for the gluteal benefits of your national pastime.