The past couple days

I've been having a good time. Aha. Except for these intense migranes I get in the mornings. God I can barely get myself out of bed.

Last night at work I had a funny conversation with this girl I work with

Me: do you think I could take her?
Her: I don't think you could take anything, it looks like a stiff wind could knock you over

I don't know what she meant by that but it was weird.

I haven't really done any homework yet, which is really bad. I did write a poem that I'm pretty proud of. It is a bit rough in the fourth stanza but that can be fixed. I'm so worried about how I write. I feel like, if I don't write something substantial that everyone will think I'm less intelligent. I don't want to be a joke.


I’ve Been a Rover

I study the cracks in paint on your ceiling
the contours jut and slide creatively
but all I can imagine is north America.

Your hand buoys my back
and I drift across the Mississippi
humming Oh Shenandoah.

I want to sit on Little Round Top for the first time again.
The space lying between us on the rocks was
the pressure of the next five years.

If only we could relearn how our bodies walk together.
I’ll bump my hips against your thighs
if you’ll be authentic with awkwardness.

But for now you are a collection of souvenirs
and I am sentimental.
I press my ear between your ribs and hear the ocean.