Young Writers Society

Uhh... I was trolling the GR and trying to figure out where all the NaPo poems were so I could review them. Turns out they are here, and I can do silly short pieces without feeling like I am taking up GR space.

I will be posting 5 sets of 6 short poems, since April has 30 days and that's an even division problem.

Yay?

1 | This is how it is:

By all calculations,
the middle is the most populated.
Medians and means
represent the whole.

The middle is compromise:
the best of both worlds,
East-meets-West,
a happy medium
that lies between two sides,
not quite one and not quite the other,
and thus accessible by all.

But the calculation won’t run smoothly.
For some reason I am lonely,
forced into the space between sides,
onto a path untrod.


2 | I love mediocre dorm food

I have been at school for nine days;
the cafeteria has nine stands,
several of which rotate their menus daily.

Except I really want to eat
some homemade fried rice.


3 | Decorations

We decorated the dorm in October,
in the week before Halloween,
with origami ghosts
and garlands of black cat silhouettes,
and we still have not taken everything down.


4 | Rain is horrible

I hate the squelch of stepping
in oversaturated ground,
the squeak of damp rubber soles
on tile floors,
and the dull thrum,
like white noise,
of raindrops pelting everything,
which smothers the noise of people outside.

But I do like my umbrella,
which has music from “Singing in the Rain”
printed on the panels.


5 | tfw you change your workout

Cycling
hurts my butt
and my ego,
my thighs
and my soul.

I went
to bed
and felt intense
regret.


6 | I live in the oldest dorm on campus

My desk lamp is long,
a single fluorescent rod
in a trapezoid of metal,
which is painted white
and smothered
in magnets, stickies, and photographs.

Sometimes it is fussy about turning on,
and every time I have to finagle the switch,
my soul detaches from my body.

What an excellent NaPo strategy :O I'm loving these short slice of life poems, I like the breadth you go in taking these out of every day life from rain, to dorm life, to Halloween and cycling. It just mixes everything up and the whole set in itself becomes colorful and varied. There are a lot of relatable lines here I enjoyed. ^_^ Can't wait for the next!

omg thank you!! I'm not sure I can promise that the next set will be very different, but I do think it's cute so far. If nothing else, you can at least get some snorts and giggles.

Set Two: days 7-12

7 | I have a problem.

I keep buying pens,
all colors,
every sliver of the wheel,
every brown,
greyscale,
and metallic tone.

My studying habits
have not improved.


8 | Chocolate Croissant

Breakfast at school
is either continental,
like at a chain hotel,
or Starbucks fare,
and everything is
unfairly expensive.

A chocolate-filled croissant,
cold from sitting
in a plastic case on the counter,
costs the same
as a small cup of hot cocoa.


9 | cherry-flavored Crush soda is red too

In autumn,
___(a very red season)
I met a boy at trivia night,
___(and god, the questions were so frustrating I saw red)
and he is as sweet as strawberries in June.
___(sickeningly red, those strawberries)
He’s a redhead,
___(don’t have to add anything)
and we go out sometimes,
___(see: me blushing my face off)
and he can tolerate more spice than a lot of white boys.
___(red peppers mmmm)
His ambition is hot.
___(and fire is red)
I might be in love.
___(red red red red everywhere)


10 | This university needs more old folks

Apparently,
nobody likes modern dance.

No one likes T’ai Chi either.

I signed up for classes at the gym at school:
dance first,
then T’ai Chi when dance was cancelled,
and now nothing.


11 | omg dad

Dad texted me:
___Saw your dorm from airplane.
___Did not see you.
I had no idea
he could write poetry.
But I guess physics and calculus
are just poetry
made of numbers.


12 | Little miracles

All eight girls in the cluster
finally found time
to negotiate the roommate agreement
and complain about that grade-A a-hole in another cluster
who watches “The Office”
loudly
during dorm quiet hours.

Set Three: days 13-18

13 | City by the Ocean

It is too cold here.
I walk to the light rail,
wind reddening my ears,
wet air seeping through my coat.
The rain flies horizontally,
phasing through my glasses
to punch me in the face.


14 | someone else’s new year

Eating curry with my hands is new;
the oil and sauce cover everything,
and my napkin bleeds spices,
but I laugh the whole time.


15 | I am very sick of clouds

Last Friday was warm,
so I bussed to the mall
and bought shorts.

It has not been warm since,
and my shorts sit abandoned
in my closet.

Spring needs to come faster,
because I am so tired
of pants.


16 | Sleepy

Class cancelled.
Took nap.
Stayed up ‘til three
reading trash novel.
Now dead.


17 | Cramming

Architectural history kills me.
I can only take
so many buildings
by dead straight white men.

The opulence of
Bernini’s Baroque
deserves defenestration,
I want to drown Pugin’s
moral dilemmas and Gothic revival
in the Pacific ocean,
and Wright can shove
his art deco and prairie style
up his dead. ass.

They would detest
even the thought
of me in their world.

They cannot teach me
how to build
for my people.


18 | this feels vaguely woke

My English professor
will maybe go on strike
in May
with the rest of the graduate student union
because the university
may not
offer their employees
money enough
that they all may
actually live in this city.

May everything work out for them.

19 | Post-midterm

I always wear my watch
for tests.
The ticking
drives away the oppressive silence
of a hundred students
scribbling and struggling
and fades into nothing
when they all sigh in relief
at the clanging bell.


20 | Flipping Weed Day

This campus is federally funded.
Please, be not stupid,
fellow dorm resident
on the floor below mine.

Stop smoking your weed.
Legality is one reason,
but I also had to close my window
to block the stench,
and my room got stuffy.

I could not breathe
either way.


21 | some flowers have too many petals

The monthly sketch-with-old-people event on my calendar
coincided with a different prior engagement.
I spent an additional morning in,
tapping away on the laptop with the window open
and a wet breeze wafting through the room.

But I must draw,
so I looked up pictures of hydrangeas
and started on the Mother’s Day card a month early.


22 | Dishes

Washing dishes
in a dorm bathroom sink
is the exact opposite
of therapeutic.

Someone left toothpaste stains
on the porcelain.


23 | Coloradan Roommate

I keep one window open,
because my roommate fair,
grew up in Colorado
surrounded by cold air.

When wind blows from the ocean
and ushers in a chill,
I huddle under blankets
and pray I won’t fall ill.

In rain and mist and hailstorms,
the air and noise swirl in,
but roomie looks right comfy;
she doesn’t mind the din.

I miss my childhood bedroom,
the way I kept it hot,
but my Coloradan roommate?
Tropical she is not.


24 | Organizational Skills

Sticky notes
smother my desk.

They were not a prank;
I put them there.

25 | finally the weather is okay

Yesterday,
the sun burst from its hiding spot
and burned through the clouds,
and I sat on the balcony
for an hour.

Now tan lines
crisscross
my collarbone.


26 | Dad’s Birthday

Birthdays are quiet:
a simple phrase,
a dinner someplace nice,
an inch grown
or a root turned grey,
and presents presented
without fanfare.

I had to call to say anything,
and when my parents must
drive over mountains
and through mist,
every small celebration

becomes too big.


27 | proteges

They are platinum blondes.
She wore my purple homecoming dress
and will work my old summer job starting in June.
He plays both horn and trombone,
and chooses the same pieces I played at competition.
I somehow left a legacy at home,
and my chest puffs every time I hear about them.


28 | food waste

I took the bus to Home Depot
and picked up a plywood board,
and boarded the return bus,
accompanied by stares,
and set the board on top of the trash can.

We no longer have flies
but the stink
could kill an elephant.


29 | Reasons for Driving Across the State Besides Seeing Your Daughter

It has been four months
since I saw Dad,
but yesterday when he and Mom
drove up from home,
we hugged once
and then went shopping
for dress pants
because the mall at home
is much smaller.


30 | Good Things

April and its showers—
all the showers:
sprinkling rain,
thunderous downpours,
fox weddings,
and hailstorms
of cherry blossom petals
—is closing.

If only this city
followed the old adage
that showers bring flowers;
I miss summer.




...Wow I actually did it.