Like Harry Potter, the sorting hat (my mom)
has placed me in a ******, crimson colored school.
It’s disorienting, as I go about, the logos are wack.

Poor little rich girl
no beachside lovers
this interminable, scorching summer.

I’m swept up by scholastic spirit.
Can you hear it? Cause it’s deafening me,
on this cool, dry, Boston orientation day.

As we finished our morning 8k jog,
the sunrise blossomed, painting hot lava clouds
with hues of yellow, orange and pink.

We’re traipsing unfamiliar paths,
it’s not what we’re used to, the roads are uneven
and the architecture’s all boxy and wrong.
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Songs for this:
New Toy by Lene Lovich
Better After All by Jonatha Brooke
Now At Last by *****

I fell for a poet
An expert with his words
By night a whisper,
By day unheard

I fell for a poet
A hazy, giggly dream
A little boy in a teenager's body
A life ripped at the seams

I fell for a poet
Who's writing love poems I'll never read
For someone else in his life,
Anyone but me.

I fell for a poet
So I'll wait, quiet as the sea
For this feeling to fade
Or for him to fall for me

You called it love, then cut me open. Said it didn't hurt just a plastic knife.

But I loved you, so I didn't flinch. And that's why I still bleed.

the circus clowns were sad
their pain made the people laugh
so every day
they painted their faces
with outrageous colors
and wore ridiculous costumes
they got onto the stage
in front of all those people
they fueled their sadness
into humor
and tricks
the people laughed and laughed
when the circus clowns show was over
they put on normal clothes
and removed their face paint
they lay in bed at night
and cry themselves to sleep
in the morning
they have another show
so they use the face paint as a mask
to hide away their pain

oklahoma is wild plums
rocky mountains and sandy hills, evergreens and deadened trees
snakes and bobcats, coyotes and deer
oklahoma is wild weather and cowboy hats
kids running barefoot and parents
drinking and going to rodeos, running into friends at the local wal-mart
oklahoma is cows at every turn
drought suffering red dirt and run-down houses
blackberries, museums and Indian heritage
oklahoma is watermelons and rattlesnake festivals
small towns and strong communties
oklahoma is home

Can you make a friend— like a craft project?
I know, I hear this parental voice, “just be yourself.”

All of my classes this semester will be in one building, but I’m a control freak, I wanted to walk my schedule, go class to class, like I will on my first day. I have a locker too—this is so high school—but I wanted to find it, try the combination and plan what I’ll carry. I have questions too, like how’s the wi-fi, are there charging outlets, and where can I get coffee?

Orientation is Tuesday—but who can wait until Tuesday? Classes start Wednesday.  I’d never sleep this weekend with so many questions. I’m already having dreams where I’m lost, late and embarrassed.

So there I was, this morning, dressed for class with my green messenger bag—doing it—schedule in hand. I went into a small auditorium with cushioned, crimson, theater seating—where my first class will be—and there’s this other girl, dressed for class, schedule in hand.

We were like twins, except she’s tall and black and I’m not. Right off she commanded me, handing me her phone, no preamble, no “How do you do,” to “Take my picture.”
Of course, I obeyed, I’m not from outer space. I burst 50 quick frames, as she slightly varied her pose and she did likewise for me.

Her name is Chella and she graduated from Yale last week too, with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs.’ I think I saw her on campus once or twice but our paths had never directly crossed.
“But IS "Global Affairs" a science degree?” I asked skeptically.
“Probably not,” she answered, “but some of us can live with ambiguity.”
Her first direct, commanding phrase limns her personality perfectly.
Yeah, we hit it right off.
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Songs for this:
Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo
Perfect Day by Povo
Are You Trying to Be Funny? by Everything But the Girl