she played with her new mug
saying he treats her right
saying she’ll probably get it
saying her pop wanted her home
she held her cell under her chin
saying fuck that bitch
saying it’s got to be a sign
saying sorry to be a buzzkill
I fiddled with my jacket button
saying it’s a means to an end
saying I don’t want to wait
saying I’ve got work tomorrow
and we’ll probably do it again next week.
his name is Ted
left for dead
In the desert
1, 2, 3
It’s a mutiny
In the desert
We were on an adventure
Fought duels, got jewels
Broke rules, so cool
A real teeth-clencher
But we got stranded, so stranded
Amongst endless dunes
Our navigator is a baboon
Only a bottle of water left
We resorted to theft
Only two bottles left
In the desert
Still wasn’t enough
Then we thought of the only reasonable thing
Ted’s disposable
his name is Ted
left for dead
In the desert
1, 2, 3
It’s a mutiny
In the desert
We left him at night
Guided by starlight
We left our baboon
Not a moment too soon
In the desert
Turns out we were rescued the next day
But they never found him
He died a hero’s death, giving us his last bottle of water
I’m all tapped out
not a drop left
even if you pout
we’re seriously effed
I know you doubt
but we are bereft
no rep, no clout
metaphorical death
he breathed hard
caved in his shoulders
and thought about
leaning his head
against the tiled wall
we sat in my car in the parking lot
a sapling stretched out of the planter
we talked about pointless things
the little tree was bare and slight
we cackled and complained and consumed
the spindly branches crept outward
you and I talked for hours more
we sit in your car in the parking lot
the tree stands solidly in the planter
we talk about pointless things
green leaves fill every branch
we cackle and complain and consume
the trunk is thick and strong now
I know what contentment is as you take me home
my sock is precariously close to falling off
the top edge is on the middle of my heel
half-on, half-off is the worst place to be
the uncertainty of my situation is scary
to know whether I’m sockless or not is best
so rip it off or pull it up as soon as possible
I don’t think I can stand being like this
I’m tired.
And this poem is uninspired.
my shoes are 2 years old
been in London, Vegas
Chicago and L.A.
but they haven’t seen much
they just stare at the ground
I go 45 in a 45 zone.
I don’t take what other people own.
When I hear an unwelcome tone,
I leave well enough alone.
In pursuit of my very own ice cream cone,
I read a tome at home.
“Don’t postpone or bemoan.”
“Hone, get known, like a cyclone.”
Now I’ve flown and grown,
And shown I can do it on my own.
the rationale is irrational
the opinion is law
the lesson is punishment
we learn from our best
