I used to only wear skinny jeans
Even if it were hotter than it seemed
Then puberty hit
And I had to quit
'Cause my hips aren't nearly as lean

Why do I feel that
I'll regret what I'm saying
When I text people

Why do I feel like
Every decision is the
Most important one

Why do I still feel
Backed into a corner when
Someone shouts at me

Why do I feel that
Absolute compulsion to
Run away from here

Why is it that I
Just can't seem to make my mind
Function like others'

I rubbed a lamp, like the stories
The genie inquired of my wish
Pausing for half a second, I said
"My first wish is to be fearless."

My second wish, I made days later
Making sure I could come up with the right phrase
I told the bottled phantom "I wish
For acceptance and peace through man's race."

For my third and final wish
From this realm of infinities
I asked that I could have the power
To travel anywhere that I please

I must've been more stressed than I seemed
Petting my dog, I released a guttural scream
I've been studying projectiles, calculus, and semantic ABCs
I just hope it's enough to get through the SATs

I may not be writing this story
I don't know what you're intending
But please, dear author, please
At least tell me if there is an ending

I walk along this street again
Chatting up a lone fireman
I tell the psychiatrist I'm just fine
As I taste rainwater like wine
And somehow it's a crime to go walking
Somehow we're strange for talking
I wish people would take me seriously
Instead of reducing me to an unbalanced teen
And maybe if they questioned just for a second
They'd see why Poe and Dickens beckon
So what if I hate school, screens, and parks?
I have my thoughts, books, and walks in the dark

Corsets and skirts and straw hats and
Dream girl
Take me aside with you in the cinema
Dream girl
Ruffles and maroon to your black hair and blue
Hands on front from behind like you want to
Dream girl, won't my parents see from ten yards away
The room is flooding, I'm almost drowning
Dream girl, I can't stay
But panic dies down in a moment, the theater dissapears
And then in that sea all I want is for you to hold me dear
Swimming and kissing and gasping
Dancing and laughing and caressing
Embracing and loving and floating
My eyes misting your raven hair shining
We finally get to disrobing
And then my alarm is ringing
And into my pillow I'm swearing
You know I'd rather be sleeping

You know a day will
Be stranger than can be said
If, upon waking, you think
"Do I have a slinky on my head?"

"Nothing you could tell me would ever disappoint me."
From the things I've heard you say, I can name at least three

Let's walk down the cobbled road in the rain
We'll come back with pastries and some new books
Let's visit that old castle once again
The boxer boy graffiti's still there, look
The DART dashes on to the city streets
As we bring groceries back to the rise
In a misty garden, there's birds to meet
We set the table under still bright skies
After a plane trip over the east sea
We're finally in Éire with dad's fam'ly

In Poland, a young Jewish girl plays with a ball near her house
not seeing the Gestapo riding in on trucks

In Japan, a boy plays with a butterfly-shaped kite
not seeing the impending fallout over the city center

In Nanking, a girl plays dress-up with her sister's old dress
not seeing the army outside of the city

In Hawaii, a boy runs along the beach, jumping in and out of the waves
not seeing the bombers over the nearby harbor

In Ethiopia, a girl and her mother walk home from a friend's house
not seeing the yellow-green cloud advancing

In London, a boy races his friends through the streets
Not seeing the bombers overhead

In Vietnam, a girl looks over her family's farm
Not seeing the troops in the jungle

In Syria, a girl and her older sister walk to get water
Not seeing the fighters moving in

Somwhere in this world, a child is living happily
Not seeing the terrible change ahead.

Sirens yip and bark
Like frightened gazelles on a
Asphalt savanna

Children and teens howl
And laugh at games and parties
Like hyena packs

Cars and trucks rumble
Like lions lounging in the
Hot summer sunshine

Parents chatter in
The shade of oak trees, like a
Calm herd of zebras

Smoke rises in air
And all gather to the grill
Like a water hole

Gatsby's lost love was green
Your crush is bright blue
But I have definitely seen
What it means to both of you

And I really hate
To be a critic of dreams
But when momens abate
There's less chance than there seems

So please slow down, old sport
I've seen this story before
Please don't tell her that retort
When you walk out of the door

The question seems to lie in

Wether we are
We are the physical computer drive
Or the transferable background programs

Wether we are
Tied together in networks or an internet
Or wether we are a lone, disconnected monitor

Wether this place
Was created intentionally by an experimenting programmer
Or wether it is just a bug, a byproduct of natural binary

And if we
Have the computing power and memory storage to download the truth
Or if we'd simply overheat our circuitry

If any of my fellow students knows this
This question as long lived as my school is old:
Why the hell do the teachers keep
The cafeteria so ******* cold?!

Some say you can know someone
From the contents of their purse
From their favorite music
Or what they want to take with them in a hearse

I say it's a far simpler method
To just look at one's search history
Which is why I messed around with the settings
And made my Google tracks a mystery

"You're only human
There are some things you can't know
So don't ask of them"

But that's just it, I'm
An imperfect human girl:
I'm here to question

For after all, the
Mind that never questions crawls
Never learns to run

Out of stardust from the sea
More than what we thought we'd be
We've come do far from sinew and bones
To our new computerized homes
Each time any tries to step back from nature
It pulls back, luring us closer
For as much as we live in this space
It lives in us, in every place

There's one way to warm hearts
On the day of an election:
Stickers with sarcastic remarks
Paired with cute confections

There's a scene in "The Hunt for Red October"
When the Americans have the Russians come over
And to lower the tension and show who they are
The men passed around a few strong cigars
Well, if you want to do that where I'm from
You pass your classmates a pack of gum

Dear Diary,

Do you remember
The little ten year old girl
Who wrote in that book

The girl who couldn't
Spell business without spellcheck
To save someone's life

The one who told you
About how she loved airports
So much she would fly

Who believed she could
Be a pilot, reporter,
and a researcher

The one who went on
For pages about mangroves
And the local reef

Who loved the world so
With all of its things to do
In such finite time

Who stood mesmerized
Over Miami's night lights
In a hotel room

The little girl who
Made an essay's outline in
Her polkadot book

The one who said she
Hated when her sister took
The hotel bed's sheets

The girl who dreamt of
Her eleventh birthday, so
She could be a witch

The one who knew that
She wasn't entirely
Regular or sane

Who wrote of her mom
Who threatened to burn you if
She kept on writing

Who wrote of her dad
And mom arguing in both
Private and public

Who was afraid of
"Inappropriate" things, since
Her parents said so

The one who told you
That she had no other friends
On her school's blacktop

The one who panicked
When she got less than eighty
For any test score

The one who knew she
Could never tell the grown-ups
Just how bad she felt

The one who vowed that
If MPs and psych wards came
She would kick and scream

Well I'm starting to
Because she was right here for
My entire life

The enemy of my enemy isn't necessarily my friend
Especially not when he aims a coconut at my head
While screaming that I'm a member of the ranks of the undead

It's a mild early spring
Makes you wonder of changes it will bring
Could this be the planet's warning
That it can't handle all the warming
Or is mother nature smiling down
Seeing how the last three winters made us frown
Early spring, early spring
What are the changes of which you sing?

All of these wires that lie by my bed
Leading to lamps, lights, and clocks around my head
Seem to be tucked away, out of mind, out of sight
Until I need to change out my two different lights

Some people wear a wolf's smile
Grinning while stalking you all the while
Some watch the world with cats eyes
Keeping their views locked under a guise
Some listen like a deer in the fog
Timidly hearing all through the smog
Some hearts take flight like a turtle dove
Plain to the outside, but soaring above

Who are you to decide
Who I talk to
What I can watch
What I can read
What I can see
What I listen to
What I like

Who are you to decide
Who my friends are
How I talk to people
Where my relationship goes
What I believe in
When my feelings are real
Which of my memories are true

who are you
*to dictate me

It would be awfully presumptuous and disrespectful of me
To assume
That I know and understand everything
(For even if I studied one thing for my entire life
I still wouldn't even come close
To knowing everything about that thing)
Or that I could fully understand you
(You and I
Are two different beings
With two very different viewpoints
And for me to assume
That I could see as you do
Would be quite ignorant)

However

It is equally presumptuous and disrespectful of you
To assume
That I am incapable of understanding and knowing
(In fact, I already know quite a bit:
I've been studying up
And though I'm still a beginner
And there are some things I don't quite get yet
I still understand a lot)
Or that you know everything about me
(Again, you and I
Are two different people
And I see things that you don't see
And for you to insist that you can read my mind
Would be the very definition of patronizing)

I'm not entirely sure if I'm
More terrfied of swarzchild's radius
The likely end of heat death over the eons of time
Or suspensions of the corpus' habeas

Or perhaps terror lies in false vacums
Or neglected tropical diseases
Or perhaps it lies in refugees being refused
Or with a virus that does as it pleases

But despite the fact that I get
My share of nightmare fodder
Your videos are complex, with layers of thought, yet
They're easily understandable and popular

The work you do is truly amazing
You spread wondrus knowledge through the web
And while you terrify, you're equally inspiring
With all of the points that stick in your head

So to you, Kurgestat, I give a mixed thanks
For though your existentialism can terrify
I love learning, from your words on war to banks
And the way your videos spread like they fly

I've been waiting years now
But it won't be too long
Before I can turn to those grade school ******
And tell them they were wrong

Boys chased me and jailed me 'neath the slide
And chipped one of my teeth
Now I can run down halls in heels
And hike twenty miles through trees

Kids ran from me like a monster for a whole year
They told me I was spoiled cheese
Later I learned that I was not so rancid
And that it's okay to be a bit of a beast

Classmates would tell me I was ugly
By rewriting lyrics of Bruno Mars
I'm not a model, but I can pull off
As many styles as the stars

I once had two boys kick me off monkey bars
They told me I was on their hit list
It was terrifying to me then
Now it's hilarious how wildly they missed

I remember that boy who taunted me
And how I flipped over his desk
Since then, I've learned of subtlety
And how not to leave a mess

I knew a girl in first grade, she sat across from me
And made sure I knew I was weird
I know I'm an oddball for a fact now
Why change the way I'm geared?

I'm still not over all of those words
From people who said "kids are mean"
"Sticks and stones will break my bones"
Now I overthink what my words mean

In the back of my mind, when I'm talking
To an acquaintance or friend
A part of me keeps popping up, asking
"Why do they like me, again?"

But at the end of all those days
It's been five years since I've been gone
Looking at the girl I am now, I'd say
I've been pretty good at moving on

It isn't really a pep rally
Unless the winner
Of blindfolded musical chairs
Ends up at the bottom
Of a thirty five person dogpile

It isn't a pep rally
Unless the balloons stay
On the gym ceiling
For the next nine months

It isn't a pep rally
Unless the juniors and seniors
get in a karaoke and cheer fight

It isn't a pep rally
Unless you have the craziest stories
To talk to your friends about on monday

To the new poet who wishes to be wise:
Keep your work out of sight of unwelcome eyes

To the poet first trying to find rhymes:
Give it a moment, you'll think of them in time

To the poet whose night is their day:
Just write down what's harder to say

To the poets whom I know as my friends:
Let's write until the universe ends

Spring has many calling signs
Like flowers and birds and sun
Or getting home to find
Thirty cars at your neighbor's for fun

For every spring and summer
The family across the street
Plays mariachi louder than a speaker
With their entire extended family to greet

Today, I really must declare
My love of stuffed donuts everywhere
From Krispy Kreme to paczki
To Korean ones with read bean
They're a gift, even though they're not rare

She marched forward
In her feline gait
Four ears laid back
Wings slightly unfurling
Tail curling and relaxing like a wave
As she shone beneath the moonlight and cameras
Dark skin and white curls making her seem like a star in her own right
Like those reflected in her sterling pupils

And, before the crowd
Of militaresi and the police
She raised her head to the skies
And sung in the manner
That a wolf howls
Or a jay chirps:
Without cessation
Letting her spirit out
Moving as the song dictated
Not giving a **** that she
(Given that she lyricized for two hours)
Looked like a madwoman
As she sung
About love and heartbreak
About loyalty and betrayal
About friends and enemies
Nature and nurture
Justice and crime
Monsters and men

She sung with no era
No race
No species
No planet
She sung as a person
Dangerously close to the edge
The same place she had been all of her life

And when she stopped
The universe was dead silent
With awe and confusion
As she slipped into the sea
Of a slave revolt

Walking under an indigo sky
With a cream colored moon shining in her eyes
Sniffing at the ground instead of looking up
Is my little mixed breed pup

Running under a blanket of blue
Chasing squirrels like terriers do
After the chase, sleeping like a log
Is my little puppy dog

Woofing quietly at my feet
Acting like it's time to eat
Staring up hopefully, looking so cute
Is my sixty pound little pooch

You ask me why I'm so giggly
When the evening comes about
I laugh at what you cannot see
Until the lights are out

And when you keep on asking why
I keep on bitting on the lie
I've heard faking it is the same as winning
So I'll be a champion if I keep grinning
There are so many secrets I keep out of the light
But, close to freedom, I giggle before night

It's not about interest, it's how you place
Your classes are weapons in an arms race
Your friends are taking two APs, so you take three
Soon we're mired in college work when high school is all we see

Counselors don't help, they only edge us on
Telling us we need advanced levels, or all college spots are gone
In Fairfax County, we score so high on tests
We ignore our thirty three percent depression and say we're the best

Because here all that matters is the grade on your transcript
You're a factory product, another computer chip
So if you're friend takes five college courses, take seven
After a semester, beg mercy and give up on heaven

I brush my hair every morning and night
You'd think, with this bob, it would stay tame
But if I take off a hat or run under a breeze so light
The cute bob turns into a matted lion's mane

At ease, I sink down
Into warm lime and salt waves
Forgetting the world

Let me submit some thoughts to the public:

If one novel can
Overturn your worldview, then
Maybe the view's wrong

If one poem can
Make you turn to suicide
Then you're not happy

If a few berries
Can overthrow your empire
Then it's bound to fall

If one whistleblower
Can discredit you, then your
Actions might be wrong

If one blogger can
Threaten your morals, then the
Morals are too strict

If one flaw can break
The entire system, it's
already broken

That's all.

Margo Roth Speigelman
Is the girl
I always wished I could be.

In reality,
I'm more
Like Hazel Grace Lancaster
Minus the cancer.

In the end,
I only want
To get out of this paper town
Come to terms with the fault in our stars
And the fact that I'll never find Alaska.

Why is it that I never seem
To be able to verbalize
The things I feel, the things I see
Why must that action tantalize?

I know how I feel, in every specific way
I know how I see the world fit together
But somehow I'm never able to say
How I think or feel to another

It's all so clear inside my brain
I know how I see and how I feel
But explaining it makes me feel insane
Because I don't have the words for my zeal

It's all so precise and obvious to my mind
But it's always hell to explain
Because I start speaking only to find
That my lack of clarity is near to pain

What seems so solid and crystal clear
In the space between my ears
Falls apart outside my mouth
Because my words' ambiguity drives it south

we hate
we love
we wage war
we make peace
we commit ******
we save lives
we ignore issues
we find answers to our problems
we commit genocide
we save nations
we feel
we go numb
we enslave others
we free each other
we lie blatantly
we reveal the truth
we sneak around
we march right in
we run in fear
we stand up and fight
we are thoughtless
we're analytical
we are intelligent
we're emotional
we can all hurt
and we can all heal.
we are humanity.

I've never had many
Problems with history class
most of it's pretty interesting
And I find it easy to pass
But the one thing I don't get
The one thing I cannot see
Is why an American high school
Has this curriculum of eurocentricity
We spent three full months
On ancient Greece and Rome
And less than a week
On the Ottomans' home
We spent one month
On Europe's rebirth
And exactly zero days
On Muslim scholars who changed the earth
We spent two full days
On the palace of Versailles
And not a single class
On Mali or Songhai
One month passed
With European exploration
But not a word was uttered
Of Timbuktu's nation
And don't get me started
On Aborigines or Micronesia
In Asia, China and India aside,
You'd think the teacher had amnesia
What I'd really like to know
Is why our curriculum
Spends most of the year
On all things European
In this melting ***
That we call America
It seems that our lesson plans
Need to be a bit fairer

I have always been quite fond of the rose
That flower sweet by any other name
That one sweet to both the eyes and the nose
That can grow to be so wild or tame
Maybe I am a bit biased in this
For my middle name is shared with the bloom
If it went, in romance it would be missed
It adds beauty to gardens and all rooms
And like my namesake, I have pastel lips
Thorns to fight with, and nice little round hips