(Dated 2/9/09, potentially written at Sleaze Manor in Berkeley or in Oakland. It’s all a little hazy…)
There are worse things than learning that
you’re just a phase or
an opening act for a one-hit blunder of a boy.
the girl that you love more than you ever caught on
caught on to a catch she likes more than you,
even though you know it’s a flounder
and she ought to throw him back
with that god damn hook in his lip
for all the other guppies to see.
you’re replaced with the consumerist zeal
of an out-modeled appliance that even
the Pennysaver can’t sell,
although it turns out you work just fine,
more than fine,
but god damn it yesterday was garbage day
and there’s no use crying over etc. etc.
Yes, there are worse things and experiences and lives
But not many,
and none that I can think of
at the moment.