I once dated a girl who liked poetry. I mean, we went on one date. OK, not really a date, since I didn't get a chance to ask her out. But I was about to as we walked out of class. Here's the extent of our conversation.
Her: I like poetry.
Me: Yeah, like what?
Her: Shall I compare thee to a summer day?
Me: Well, summer days are pretty long. That's a good comparison, if you know what I mean.
Her: See ya.
Sorry, I just felt like sharing. I'll stop now. Here's Greta.
From College Misery, December 19, 2010
I count your points. Blond-
haired 'flake who begs redemption,
there is no Santa.
My inbox screams at
me, flails its monstrous arms and
stomps: Save us! Save us!
Sunday night, five days
away from mandatory
family time, I pour
the scotch and grade the
research essays: pain now, some
to look forward to.
Here at the CC,
we smile because we have to;