Tuesday, March 19, 2013

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.