Shuffle Poetry–plus one

I yanked this meme from Cari ’cause hers cracked me up. Emo poets, watch out!

Take the first line of the first twenty songs that play on your shuffled music (wherever your shuffled music originates). The first line of the twenty-first song becomes your title. Here’s my poem–apparently I’m having girl trouble.

I’m Free to Do What I Want Any Old Time
by Becky and her iTunes

Green-eyed girl
Give me one more chance
What good is the dawn
Oh, it’s been such a long, long time
At night it hits me cold

You want to give your love away
Walked out, goodbye
I give her all my love
Girls can wear jeans
It’s quarter to three

All I know is the way that I feel
So you think you’re a Romeo
Cain slew Abel
Moon River, wider than a mile
Trudging slowly over wet sand

Know it sounds funny
She’ll let you in her house
Am I real?
Let me in here
When the night has come

And since I’m being poetic, occasionally (okay, twice, whatever, this is my LJ and I’ll say what I want to) Mark G. Harris assigns poetry writing tasks to his friends. He finds a past blog entry we wrote and asks us to rewrite it–in verse. He last did this on November 2, assigning me this old post of mine from May 2008. November 2…which is…uh….three months ago today and…um…er….GREAT WRITING TAKES TIME, PEOPLE!

So without further ado–and note, Internet, that’s ado, not adieu, but let me not interfere with your massacre of the language so that I can commence my own.

That Day You Got Your Nails Did

Lucy and Marilyn watched from the wall
That day you got your nails did
Madonna was hanging out, too,
But was all into herself
And couldn’t be bothered with you

Each twitch from you became sound
In the nail tech’s giggles
She clipped and filed and buffed
Around your nervous cuticles
Good theater, but you didn’t let me pay

I drove your manicure to Starbucks
To wrap itself around a frappuccino and a Camel
We kept an eye out for handsome men
But got dirty dogs and a rainbow
We’re soaking in it, Hardhat Boy


15 thoughts on “Shuffle Poetry–plus one”

      1. “Hardhat Boy.”

        Now I don’t have to suffer through hunting down a title the next time I pen some erotica…

        I posted my “megamix” poem. Apparently, mine is about a high school boy who got dumped by a girl. Or something.

      1. Hee!!

        Well. You know. She was looking pretty hot in her leather attire! I think that she is probably heading for the airport with that guy she found on the motorcycle….

        I’m sure that she’ll get back to you.

  1. Aw, one of the best days of my life, immortalized in voyse (“verse;” I’m speaking Brooklynese this evening). I still remember the getting that story acceptance, hopping up and down and suddenly the state of my nails became top priority haha

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