"pringle" poems
Take my hand, friend
just for a sec-
let's leave this ****** land of
SATs, PSATs, APs,
and college admission essays and guidance counselors
and homework and pop quizzes and exams and whatever else-
behind.
Let's be two again.
Let's make Pringle-chip-duck faces
and grin with orange peel smiles-
I'll paint my nails yellow and we'll read Dr. Seuss with British accents
in the dimming light of the old
falling-down fort of pillows and blankets (that's almost too small for us)
Let's pretend
Let's pretend
Let's pretend
That we've never seen the glowing screen of
televisions, computers, IPods,
that we haven't spent weeks wearing down our thumbs on text messages.
Let's forget fights over boys that weren't even all that hot.
Let's sit in my yard and eat raw cookie dough behind my momma's back
And make too-sweet fresh lemonade, and blow dandelions
(into other neighbor's yards, of course)
Spray garden hoses at each other
and laugh and scream and giggle and make mud-pies.
Let's make twenty different secret handshakes,
Eat wild raspberries and hide sticky fingers
And pinky promise- again and again- BFFs forever.
Let's lose ourselves in the bliss of childhood
just one more time- please.
Just in case Peter Pan decides to visit.
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 7:40 PM UTC
late night hoops
24-hour fitness
you call me "white boy"
"how did you know?"
i want to say
funny
"hey white boy"
sounds a lot like
"hello mr. oppressor"
i am not
a poster boy for the past or present
a rusty slogan of inequality
or
a white boy
i am
irish norwegian german french-canadian native american
spud-eating fur trapping wampum-trading viking
i am
pumping pull-ups on the poverty line
just tall enough to ride the wel-ferris wheel
unable to tell my mother i love her
and
b r o k e n
Deta
ched
scarred
******* my shirt like a salty otter pop
swallowing sweaty syllables
the pringle on my shoulder
about to crunch
game point
tie game
15
15
we are equal
even when i sink that shot
tickle that twine
we are still equal
you and i
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
Vast, empty, midnight hour,
hunchbacked lampposts glaring over parasitic black earth
choking its host.
A parking lot,
an ecosystem’s blemish—
hot tar seeping into the pores of the earth
like a stubborn blackhead in a lip line.
When no cars burrow into the blackened hide
like lice
the great absence of life
is an atrocity.
I imagine myself skateboarding across the tier
as the small town cops
watch languidly with vague interest—
A skateboarder’s paradise
where wheels and accomplice minds roll across celestial barriers
blasting infinite pulses
into the microcosm.
What greasy punks have their mother’s van parked here,
huddling by the heat vents
and jerking off into a Pringle’s can?
Empty parking lot
looks like a cemetery
filled to the brim
where headstones meld
over a mass grave—
delineated by white lines,
the apparitions of vehicles and their hosts
haunt the frozen space.
Another horrible excuse
to waste land,
a wasteland in and of itself
where Tom Eliot saunters aimlessly
and buries the dead.
The saddest sight to behold,
this vacuous parking lot
littered with stray shopping carts,
phantasmal plastic bags,
gum splotches,
***** stains,
candy wrappers,
cigarette butts,
used condoms,
lonely cops
and patient drug dealers,
ambulant skaters,
tired punks,
bored teenagers,
somnambulists,
stumbling drunks,
hunchbacked ***** lights
prying for life beneath its sallow gaze—
The air encapsulated within the perdition
stifling,
the pavement below stifling,
a constriction only visible
when emptied of its contents.
A cop wakes from their choking nightmare gasping
to find themselves trapped,
****** in this parking lot
where the walkie-talkie buzzes
with the weeping and gnashing of teeth.
The warehouse store
looming above the waiting room
lifeless, silent, dark countenance—
Big Brother sees all in the gaping maw.
Cascading before me,
stretching towards the highway passing by,
waiting for the panorama to finish scrolling,
the treadmill to cease its cycle—
all the while lamenting life’s absence
and reveling in the potentiality it possesses.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
The P inside lifts to shallow pools of thirst and moving pictures.
P is purpose, personality car crashes to park the private Idaho.
A sign of the cross, will not stop P.
Prove it to the pin drop puncture of ****** on heat,
insecure to many tongues dripped in keroscene pantomine.
P is pretty. P is pop. P is pandamonium. P is plucky. P is pink.
Patter, panky, pips, puddle, paraquet, puncuation.
Property is theft Parker, pity, purity, punt, plunder, *****
Past, paint, pander, pringle, puppy, pesky, pest,
petrol, patrol, pamper, pastel, plunder, pongo, plip plop.
P.................
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
I made a new friend
She is short and sweet
She is the best
so happy we got to meet
We do everything together
We share all our secrets
Confide in each other
and embrace the uniqueness
We bonded so fast
And are both equally clumsy
We giggle at our mishaps
And our awkward tendencies
My friend has a boyfriend
She takes him everywhere
We all hang out
They make a good pair
But lately its been hard
There has been a lot of meetings
Used to have her to myself
This kinda feels like stealing
I am happy for her
I'm sure i would do the same
If i were in her position
I would surely sing his name
But I'm a single pringle
And this can make things hard
All my friends are dating
Guess i was dealt a different card
But i wish that they could know
How lonely it can feel
when you get stuck
being the third wheel
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 12:46 AM UTC
I'm single.
And not that chill
Ready to mingle,
But that sitting at home
With my hand stuck in a can of Pringle's
Single.
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
Hey boys if your out there mesage me imma single pringle lookin to mingle.
Message me if have interest
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:02 AM UTC
We've been together for a flammin' hot minute and its been all that in a bag of chips.
Except you want a two-for-one special and I'm craving to see other dips.
I get it, having a full meal is ideal and a snack satisfies temporary hunger.
But you're putting your foot in a bowl of nachos and I have the munchies to use my Free Toes and slumber.
After my expiration date, you came into my life and preserved the flavor of love.
That's cool beans if I wasn't salty and letting it mingle.
But you want to exchange onion rings.
I just want to be Single like a Pringle.
By: Thrystan Tate
Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 4:12 PM UTC
She chatters on and on
About her guy,
Though they're not dating yet
They're as close as the fingers on my hand.
And I'm the awkward thing in the middle
Not even an object just a thing
Doesn't she realize I'm jealous?
Yes I guess
I am a single pringle
Singing a single jingle
But that's not really me.
I don't want to be stuck
And I wonder
Has this ever happened to me before?
Has this ever happened to you?
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
Paris the city of love
If I went there I would
Not have love I’m
The girl that doesn’t
Talk so no one
Will go out with me
All my friends have
Has a bf/gf and
Then there is me
A pure single pringle
Never been on a date
Never had a boyfriend
I will always be
Forever alone
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 9:08 PM UTC