backyard crowing



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some random poems

"Bah! The thing is not a nose at all, but a bit of primordial chaos clapped on to my face."

- H.G. Wells

"If you fell down yesterday, stand up today."

- H.G. Wells

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and now, for some random poems. the first one is for class, but none of them are particularly wowing. the last one is not autobiographical, and probably overly emo.

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micheal g. does not like me

micheal g. was born on May 30th,
Five days after me. He has five dogs and
His favorite color is maroon, like mine.
micheal g., I could never spell him right.

In third grade, I knew all about my love.
She assigned partners; at last I was his.
Not only his, but his in the next room,
Those classrooms had a limit called budget.

As did the lunch tables, that fateful day
My “silly friend” decided to betray
“She likes him!” she squealed, “She likes him!” he turned
Redder than his hair, our classmates guffawed

Lunch gracefully let go, recess took hold
Mud filled ground, their smiles taking me down, and
I found another worst enemy, Mom
Name: micheal g., boy who does not like me

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I never even looked at him
Yet still I wondered what life
With him
Might be like

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Here is the graffiti I would like to write on these walls if I had a Sharpie:

*was never in love with Marcus*

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I pull my hood over my head
As mysterious jazz fills the room,
Inviting all to become sketchier than
Our privileged upbringings would allow
Headlights pass the windowpane
And the night still has room for a few passers-by
This is the Metropolitan Coffee,
This is Saturday night.
Hello, night.
Hello, ultimate gloom.
Hello, unnerving saxophone solo.

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And just when you think,
“This is it,”
“I’ve finally found him,”
He turns around,
Leaving you helpless to begin again.
You can’t begin,
Won’t begin;
He is the dog that ran away,
Irreplaceable.

What you had with him
Was too good to be true,
A free lunch,
A pipe dream.

It was only a matter of time
Before he would say “Goodbye.”
Goodbye.

And may all your future lovers
Leave the covers
Before you awaken.

I hope you will crave them.
As tenderly as my heart beat for you,
Boy, you
Who
Carves and carves
My bleeding heart
Who
Takes and takes and
I’ll never get over this one, mom.

1:59 am - Tuesday, Apr. 10, 2007
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