28 August 2006

law book poem

25 August 2006

all grown up

He said
Well Bran
I have news
I am getting married
And want you to be the best man.
Of course, there is some dispute over what to call you…
I said
Call me
the best man
[and does this mean I don’t have to wear a bridesmaid dress?]
He said
Something black
To match the tuxes is alright.


-I’ll be conservative, I promise
But you know I’ll have French lingerie underneath.

17 August 2006

undergraduate infidelity

I took the elevator 3 floors up in my freshman dormitory, and walked down the boys’ hall with its oh-so-recognizable smell. I knocked on your door and covered your peep-hole with my hand. You opened up in 5 seconds, with that goofy grin on your face. Your hand tucked awkwardly behind your back, you said
-I have a surprise for you…
He doesn’t know I’m here, but then again he doesn’t know I’m not here.
You pull out a pint of ice cream, half melted from your sub-par garage sale minifridge, and present it to me. It’s soupy and I have to eat it out of a cup, but it’s perfect. I return your exagerrated smile and offer a little squeak as barter.
-It’s my favorite.
- I know.
I go into your room and we sit on the too-small futon; I start eating the ice cream with a plastic spoon and you start playing with your watch. It’s dark in here, because I like it that way. It’s light enough that I can see you looking at me with your clear eyes. It’s light enough that I can see what is going on, what is really going on. It’s dark, because I like it that way.
-Where is your roommate?
- At bible study.
-heh.
You put your arm around me, and who cares what the conversation is? He doesn’t know you are holding me, but then again he doesn’t know you aren’t holding me. I feel comfortable, and happy, and safe. You tell me about your new poems, I tell you about my geography exam. We don’t talk about him.
Its getting late and I have French in the morning, so I say I have to go. I stand up and toss my hair back over my shoulder. As I turn to the door, you say
-If he asks you where you were tonight, it wouldn’t be lying if you forgot to mention the ice cream.

12 August 2006

a completely unnecessary poem

Summer having sex with mirrors
the only thing worse than a man who can’t give an orgasm is a man who can’t have one
(really really have one)
with mirrors is clean/dirty fun
did I say alone? I meant to.
Oh hell, the kid gloves are off.
start the races, boys, I’m moving up in the world.
I better hear it from you. Say it like you mean it. Feel it this time.
Whats my motivation?

If my life were a ride at Disney World

The sign would say
Warning: not for the faint of heart, those suffering from stability. No pregnant women.

I think its about time I febreeze my large vascular organ
(I think the most terrible phrase ever invented is ‘alienation of affection’)
oh spite, oh gracious.