There’s a farmers market near campus.
A young couple has a pizza oven on a trailer.
They make a breakfast pizza - bacon, mozzarella
some egg and green peppers. It’s SO crispy and delicious.
ALL I had to do this morning was say “breakfast pizza!”
and six of us were ready to head out fifteen minutes later.
Let’s wax poetic, shall we?
There are some young ladies who live in a dorm
sometimes it seems like they only have studies
but once and a while on a Saturday or Sunday
if we have our druthers, we get out, in swarm
and find ourselves some pizza-like brekkie.
.
.
Songs for this:
PIZZA by Oohyo
Le Breakfast Club de Paris by Gabrielle Chiararo
There’s a lot of heat when all eight
of us suitemates are together.
I might have mentioned it somewhere.
We’re like surround sound,
or eight car alarms going off together,
it’s jabberwocky by an established team.
It can get frantic and frightening
for the uninitiated or inhibited.
Some of us are pretty boy-crazy
and there’s a mix-in of twinkling girl-crazy too.
We’re basey, bugzee, spaceheads and freaks,
yeah, we're the whole emotional spice rack.
“She’s a good person to kill time with,”
is pretty high praise around here
because we have so little free time.
But these are good people to kill time with.
And they’re portable, we travel, we invade,
we’re crazy young women who’ve got it made.
So if you’re coming at us, trying to enter our enclave,
you better be brave or a situational upgrade.
.
.
Songs for this:
No New Friends (feat. Sia, Diplo & Labrinth) by LSD
Lysergic Bliss by of Montreal
Freedom Is Free by Chicano Batman
.
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slang…
basey = a cool loser, nice but a bit odd, a weirdo with style
bugzee = slightly crazy
spaceheads = people who talk about weird things
.
.
Webster: Jabberwocky = meaningless speech or communication.
I’m sorry we can’t start the morning
- I’m still stretching and yawning.
Oh, give me a skibidi break,
why’d you wait to snake me awake?
Anyway, you know not to bother me
unless you’ve brought coffee.
You can’t just insist we have to leave -
I haven’t even brushed my teeth!
I’d love to join in your drama
but I’m still in my pajamas.
Can you give me a quarter hour?
I’ve really got to take a shower.
We aren’t back in school,
who says there are rules?
You know, summer loses its charm
when you have to set an alarm.
Does running late count as exercise?
.
Kamala Harris! I’m SO hyped.
I guess Yale’s (5 member) Alpha Kappa Alpha ladies get to reify their nang now.
.
.
Songs for this:
Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra
I Remember the Sun by XTC
.
slang..
skibidi = insert the profanity of your choice
reify = representing something sketchy as a concrete thing.
nang = cool
Lisa and I wrap and rap for Christmas.
Can you imagine the two of us doing that?
We’ve got Christmas playlists going
Christmas scented candles glowing,
and milky hot-chocolate flowing.
“Stir the marshmallows with the candy canes,”
Lisa says, like that’s something she has to explain.
We’re humming, singing and laughing,
and dancing because we’re happy.
We’re dashing to finish our wrapping,
we can’t have our suitemates catching
us executing the plans we’re hatching
to surprise them with gifts, enchanting.
The paper’s exotic, delicate and glittery
bought at Boyars Gifts, in New York City.
Why do the scissors keep getting lost?
Getting low on scotch-tape - we’ve used a lot.
We’ll be putting them, sneakily, under the tree
where they’ll add glamor and tease to our festivities.
I love the lights of the season - I love giving gifts.
For me, playing Santa is as good as it gets.
.
.
I latest piece is too long the poem section - so it's in "Short Stories."
It's called "rose, bud and thorn" I could shorten it - but why? *shrug*
Here's the link:
www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/rose_bud_and_thorn_12018
I hope you like it!
Hurry up! Barry the boorish bulldog urged Priss the poodle.
There are others here who want to unwind their noodle.
Is that surly curly still in the bath? Is she getting her legs waxed?
German shepherd’s temper was being severely taxed.
Move over a bit so I can reach the sink!
Said a beagle who was trying to get a drink.
The bathroom was filled up with dogs of variety of pedigrees.
They were hopping around on fat legs that had chased a good breeze.
How many more roommates are we going to get?
Yelped a blue heeler with sass who was throwing a fit.
The puppies barked, and the old dogs passed big gas.
All of them ready to leap around on some grass.
I latest piece is too long the poem section - so it's in "Short Stories."
It's called "world cartoon"
I could shorten it - but why? *shrug* Here's the link:
www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/world_cartoon_10787
I hope you like it!
I think we all love kisses, like flowers love the sun.
They can be meaningful, deep and scandalous or fun.
You might briefly, sneakily, steal a kiss,
you can blow a kiss or condone a kiss,
emblazon every girl or boy you know with a kiss,
postpone a kiss, or bemoan a kiss as hormones,
but you can’t keep a kiss or own a kiss,
because they’re never more than half your own kiss -
sadly, as we’ve all learned, you just can’t kiss alone.
Every kiss is a puzzle, an experiment requiring a team
you may not even understand a kiss, or exactly what it means.
As far as kisses go, I’ve only had a few. I blame that dam
pandemic, they certainly weren’t something I eschewed.
I wish I had specific tips for girls with quick, impulsive lips
which somehow never can resist a flirty, kissing apocalypse.
Your roommates will support you, with only a few quips
but you really can’t keep doing this, you’ve got to get a grip.
The night was rainy, hot and humid. It was the kind of night that populates steamy, black and white, noir movies where someone is murdered. The stars seemed reduced to sloshing behind moldy gray clouds, as damp and listless as seaweed in the surf.
“Let’s go see a movie,” Sophy suggested, as she brought up the Fandango website on the 70” smart TV. This quickly drew a brouhaha of excited interest.
“Ooo!, Bullet Train,” Anna said. “Elvis!” Lisa gushed.
“Where the Crawdads sing!” Sunny gasped.
“Super pets!” Leong declared, pointing - producing groans all around - THAT was a no-go.
“Maverick!” I said. “I could do that,” Sunny agreed, “he’s crazy, but I’m a Cruise fan.” she added.
In the end we decided to do a movie marathon with “Maverick” that night and “Elvis”, “Bullet Train” and “Where the Crawdads sing,” on Sunday.
As we ordered our treats at the theater concession stand, a tall, skinny, spotted, teenage boy attempted to flirt with Lisa. He smiled at her as confidently as a lizard, but sagged, like a shirt whose coat hanger was removed, when she pointedly ignored him.
White is for rice and brides - ready to commit.
White’s for ghosts and clouds or even carnations
but it should never, ever, be used for privilege
or worse yet, as poetic inspiration.
I’ve been waiting for the urge to write
while facing an ugly screen of white.
Waiting for the vowels to fall into place,
for words to congeal and finally displace
the awful, foreboding, blank white space.
Learning is our struggle, our crown of thorns.
The more we study and prepare for fall,
the more excited I get to reenter those halls.
34 days until classes start. For fall weather,
and the bee hum of crowded life in the dorms.
My roommates and I are like a single, nameless thing
- an emolument that happens to have 6 heads.
We’ve beaten the freshman “imposter syndrome,”
and we’re ready to bring sophomore year home -
together - no muss, no fuss - I love that for us.
The poetry section has a crazy short limit on characters so my piece had to be posted as a short story.
https://www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/creeping_studies_9422
Thanks for reading!
I have a new short story posted - "debuts"
It was 117 characters too long for a poem.
https://www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/debuts_9372
Not a mythical creature,
or the patriarch of a lewd, cartoon family,
you are my roommate.
Well, one of them,
and you have been for two years now.
Superhero posters make your room your own.
Perhaps you’re concealing a secret identity
when you refuse to hang out with us;
on late night drives,
lunch or dinner,
all we do is make awkward small talk.
And you’re the only one
to keep his door locked.
Your girlfriend never comes around anymore,
you’re always at her place,
though, we don’t mind.
Sometimes it’s hard to tell where you are.
Perhaps you’re a murderer,
waiting for us to leave
so you can indulge in violent ceremony.
Whatever you’re into.
In the words of Jerry Garcia,
I implore you,
“Please don’t murder me.”
We come together like being tied by a rope.
Sometimes the rope gets cut lose by scissors,
And then we have to find a new rope to tie our friendship back together.
V. help me find the rope to tie us back together.
Don't let us both fall down on the ground by letting the cold wind get the best of us.
I will open up my heart to help you shine.
For that is all I ever wanted to see you do.
Not be in the coldness and not let you heart light up the sky.
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