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poem for creative writing class

Remember When Imitation by Johanna

Part 1.

Miller Lite logo in the chest

the shirt’s too big

so she wears it like a dress,

and twirls a clumsy ballet.

Pigtails smacking her baby face.

Soon a yawn fights its way through her sugary lips

and she tiptoes to her imaginary friends

who wait on a cloud of dead sheep.

Imaginary friends ready to lull her to sleep

as she hides her arms in her big shirt

and cradles her perfect figure.

Part 2. "Sleep Over"

Cuddling with 10 of my closest friends.

Overlooking where one bitch ends

and another demon begins.

Commiserating the lies on the bathroom walls,

the best myspace profiles

and my pink polka dot pants.

Damn.

Why’d I let those tight pants go?

Oh yeah,

the jerk with the cute smirk called them “tacky.”

Tacky,

another word for “tasteless” or “classless”

But he’s the classless fucker

reading smut novels and

naming his sex apparatus

after Danielle Steel.

He’s his own Marxist state.

Little does he know

he’s choking on Marie Antoinette cake.

My buddies tell me to stop thinking about

the asshole in the park.

But I can’t.

He was so cute

with his spiked hair and Pokemon cards.

My buddies tell me to listen to the rain

and drown my heart.