drinking
Silk chocolate soymilk,
Sit on a bench outside the classroom,
Take out a pen and a piece of paper,
write one line about
my boyfriend lying sexy in our bed, and
this oblivious moron sits down right next to
me on the bench with
his headphones and rap blasting;
how loud can an iPod go, sounds like a stereo –
I can hear the lyrics.
“There goes my inspirtation,” I think.
Call my boyfriend to complain about
the nonsense,
and then I realize
all I do is complain and hate
people
since I stopped writing and b**** in general about
people in my poetry.
So I’m taking this minor
loss
of inspiration of my
sexy boyfriend in bed
and turning it into a prose poem
inspired by this obnoxious Yankee-hick whose first name is the same as
my 3rd grade teacher’s
last name,
who
no one really liked anyway;
irritation must carry on in the name.
Silk chocolate soymilk,
Sit on a bench outside the classroom,
Take out a pen and a piece of paper,
write one line about
my boyfriend lying sexy in our bed, and
this oblivious moron sits down right next to
me on the bench with
his headphones and rap blasting;
how loud can an iPod go, sounds like a stereo –
I can hear the lyrics.
“There goes my inspirtation,” I think.
Call my boyfriend to complain about
the nonsense,
and then I realize
all I do is complain and hate
people
since I stopped writing and b**** in general about
people in my poetry.
So I’m taking this minor
loss
of inspiration of my
sexy boyfriend in bed
and turning it into a prose poem
inspired by this obnoxious Yankee-hick whose first name is the same as
my 3rd grade teacher’s
last name,
who
no one really liked anyway;
irritation must carry on in the name.
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