lesbian couplets

I save my poetry unit for April, when everybody’s tired and has no more fucks to give. After Heart of Darkness and Macbeth; after Black Boy and Jane Eyre and the sticky-thick short stories of Katherine Anne Porter. Because when the kids are just OVER reading and writing; over it over it over it; that’s when the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars. In the letting go, they learn. Despite themselves. And, if I can go limp enough, I write. Some couplets from today:

i wanted to fuck her poems

instead, i found her.

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“i’m the villain, baby,” you said, and i swooned

but you stole that quote from “girl, interrupted.”

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root vegetables, dark beer

the taste of you

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you were a long list of ingredients

but no recipe

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she was like my first hit of ecstasy;

i kept trying to repeat the experience, and sometimes cliches are all we have.

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you left, and i was like a liquid

trying to do a solid’s job

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she pulled a stake out of the train tracks and handed it to me

i was the one who crashed

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i’m making a list of things that won’t get done today

and you are nowhere on it

 

In other news, today I subbed for the Health teacher, and I learned from the textbook that marijuana is addictive and sexual abstinence until marriage is the only acceptable choice. Dang. For so many years, I got those things confused!

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