36th week of Poetry

July 3

 

I wish

Oh how I wish

I wish.

 

July 4

 

Amelie

Amelie

AMELIE

amelie

 

July 5

 

Oh what a day

Forget about hanging up posters about oppression and corporate politics

I swam in a dirty ass canal or waterway or lake or what have you

And I think some fish took a chunk or two
Huzzah

 

July 6

 

What to do what to do do what do to do what exactly I don’t know know don’t I know what to do what to do What to do I don’t know what I’m doing here just spewing stuff out as usual or shit as the term is known for I’m hungry right now aren’t you I hope so it’s always a good time for cereal man

What to do what to do do what do to do what exactly I don’t know quit asking goddammit fuck

 

July 7

 

A year from now

I’ll be 20 sitting here at this computer

Still putting down pretty words from time to time

And not knowing what the hell I’m doing

So, nothing’s gonna change (except my pube hair, maybe.)

Here’s to you Father Time and Mother Earth: you’ll never let me down

and you’re always so predictable.

Amen.

 

July 8

 

(I don’t mind the tangent, )

Society’s just a never-ending system: Everything’s a damn competition, yep

 

education, what used to be almost a haven for someone who just wanted to learn is now just for money and because jobs are gone.

What did I really do? I’ll tell you something I’ve felt ever since my first day at college:  that it doesn’t matter anymore.

Why should awards and resumes and college applications be the endgame?  I’ve never felt more alone, more isolated, and more depressed.

 

Eh, clubs look nice on paper, and they’re just another term for cliques. It’s high school, except we’re paying for it now.

My last counselor visit, I think only drastic action, like getting off the grid and living in a cave could help overturn this situation:

 

( Everything else is so overwhelmingly droll and needlessly complicated and time-consuming/stress-inducing.)

 

How time is now at the behest of a society like ours, but to dread and hate and hope that it ends fast, not something to look back on and to enjoy

I somehow planned my collegiate career for the next two years, and it creeped me out.

 

I’m made of tangents at this point.

 

July 9

We’re coming.

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