Scene 1:
(Periwinkle room, Jigglypuff poster, soft alternative music)
I stomp in,
Niagara Falls streaming
Throw his copy of Pablo Neruda poetry into the trash
And start reading Virginia Woolf
Poetic revolution.
That’ll show him
Scene 2:
(Cafe atmosphere, fading laughter, upbeat music)
Whoa. That guy. Not that one.
The one on the left
Kinda nice, kinda cute
And he laughed at my joke
Jane Austen romances
and Zooey Glass daydreams
fill my waking moments
Scene 3:
(Restaurant, muffled conversations, classical music)
What is he staring at? Who is he staring at?
Oh no awkward conversation gap
Say something,
quick, anything
“The weather is nice tonight, yeah?”
Not that.
But he laughs
Night saved
Scene 4:
(Outside the restaurant, night breezes, car noises)
“That was nice,”
He casually mentions
Yeah. Nice.
Not great. Amazing. Life-altering.
Nice.
The same adjective used to describe the weather
Devoid of meaning.
Scene 5:
(Car, radio on silent, crickets chirping)
“I wanted to give you something”
Hands me,
Oh dear god no,
A copy of Neruda
That ****** Neruda.
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 3:18 PM UTC
Scene 1:
(Periwinkle room, Jigglypuff poster, soft alternative music)
I stomp in,
Niagara Falls streaming
Throw his copy of Pablo Neruda poetry into the trash
And start reading Virginia Woolf
Poetic revolution.
That’ll show him
Scene 2:
(Cafe atmosphere, fading laughter, upbeat music)
Whoa. That guy. Not that one.
The one on the left
Kinda nice, kinda cute
And he laughed at my joke
Jane Austen romances
and Zooey Glass daydreams
fill my waking moments
Scene 3:
(Restaurant, muffled conversations, classical music)
What is he staring at? Who is he staring at?
Oh no awkward conversation gap
Say something,
quick, anything
“The weather is nice tonight, yeah?”
Not that.
But he laughs
Night saved
Scene 4:
(Outside the restaurant, night breezes, car noises)
“That was nice,”
He casually mentions
Yeah. Nice.
Not great. Amazing. Life-altering.
Nice.
The same adjective used to describe the weather
Devoid of meaning.
Scene 5:
(Car, radio on silent, crickets chirping)
“I wanted to give you something”
Hands me,
Oh dear god no,
A copy of Neruda
That ****** Neruda.
Request permission to use this poem