The cocktail waitress in the corner
Tonight she skates at Roller City In polka dots and ponytails Her lips pursed and polished For she disapproves of most everything that offers little reflection No bringing your own music No pinching the dancers She moves to a secret sound Regarding herself as an international spy In the house of fun
"I'LL BE IN HIGH SCHOOL FOREVER"
I scream My friends have moved on from my early death At the age of seventeen My graduation dress was a dream; Never sewn, only glimpsed, never seen. Buy me a cassette, Buy me a carousel -Hold me close ma, hold me closer- Buy me some time and a jet and I'll leave. I won't pretend to be so mean. I wouldn't pretend to be so mean.
It's been a while. Here's something that made me think to think of you. It's a little wonky, things have been a little disjointed for me, but how have you been? We should hang out sometime. We should really reconnect.
She egresses from a pool of blue and straight into the colorless, Californian dregs of summer.
Each passing plane reminding her how stuck she is. The question remains whether some people are doomed to just survive, a yearning for freedom following them around, until they learn to numb themselves to such aspirations. Faraway trains pass by. The sound in their whistles knowing the events she will litigate with herself for years to come until it empties the contents of her soul.
Autumn leaves burning
In the backyard The scent accented By a nearby Lilac tree What a weird thing Memory Like the shack Closed door Dusty sneakers On the floor Exploring bodies And fantasies Galore Don’t let the hinge bend Keep it shut If they don’t see It didn’t happen I mean… We’re only friends
This cabin smells damp
Tucked away in the timber Backroaded Secluded Welcome to Deer Camp It was wintertime And we had to *** Into a tube in the wall PVC I’m at that awkward age Not lanky But frumpy and weird So hand me a rifle For the slaughter Of a creature I revered Man, what we do To make our fathers proud My secret was I hated guns And loved boys I really only went on this trip Because I heard that John Grilled some mean potatoes Accented with caramelized Onions and garlic The rumors were true The fire crackles Against a sky Of light blue I watched these men Bearded and loud Would I ever be like them? Did I want to be? My quiet heart Felt alien A freak I wasn’t a hunter Instead I gathered A harvest of me Thoughts and emotions Into a cauldron Of poetry But I kept that part Hidden Tucked away For another day The men in their Camouflage attire Yawn as the sun sets I try to fit Into the cabin We retire The lantern’s light Flickers across The walls of the room Sam’s Club candy For dessert Distant thunder Booms It was bedtime And a storm was rolling In the atmosphere and in My head full of fear Can someone please Get me out of here I cried from my cot “Please take me home” My dad glared What a disappointing Drive that was Have I ever not Let you down? I think As blankly ahead I stared We pull into the driveway Ignition turns off Headlamps extinguish He unlocks the door By the light of the moon I feel Relief and anguish Mom was annoyed This was supposed to be Her weekend alone Grieving the death Of her own mother She hugs me While wiping A tear from her Cheekbone Steel Magnolias And a box of Kleenex I ruined that You brought a fairy To deer camp What did you expect?
We met in kindergarten
Miss Wolfe’s class Into an ear I whisper A shy boy’s bargain I knock on your door Pray the dog Doesn’t **** me Seems like a metaphor Laughter and chasing geese Stealing glances And prances in the woods Sprained ankles in the creek Your moon-drenched family room And our primal need Bodies glide Into foreign feelings I concede We’re both shaving now Not children Yet not men In between and fooling around In my attic bedroom Space Jam soundtrack Hoping my mom doesn’t hear us My hands on your back Then moving down Committing little sins Shhhhhh Don’t make a sound Then the bed of my dad’s truck Some hand stuff Never a **** Never enough You get up and leave I want you to stay I play the radio 97 ZOK Meredith Brooks And I hate the world today Because I’m a ***** But I like me this way Fifteen and fevered Down Mix Street I rollerblade Turn right on Worth My love for you Is such a sad parade Remember when We camped on the lawn Quiet light and secrets Then that wicked dawn Dragging us back Into a world Where our desires Don’t belong We are strangers now With a little bit of everything All rolled into memory Like a sacred vow I’m your hell I’m your dream Do you remember anything? I recall it all Your tousled hair And my forbidden grin I think you live in Wisconsin
Have you met Ophelia?
I saw her at the bank Withdrawing all her interest. And if I may be frank, It seemed none could appeal to her, And as she stacked her notes Her visage had the look of death. I hope her asset floats.
Psych ward poetry.
Set 3, poem 53. Inspired by a book I was given by an anonymous staff person.
preparing months for an exam
for a number that supposedly determines your worth ******* up to teachers, people you don't even like just for them to hopefully write a few commendable words about you all for the hopes of being deemed "acceptable" to some supposed authority for a place that will decide what you'll be doing for the rest of your life making these drastic decisions at the age of 18 when not too long ago you were just picking out your prom dress listing down any type of hobby or recreation you have to make yourself seem a little more unique since the competitiveness between you and your peers is sharper than a knife who will make the final cut in the end and be deemed worthy?
that's all we do. that's all we've been doing for years as a society.