I like to call them red rugrats —the love bruises I never saw fit for k-sounds
and I like to call it doo-wop —the ink spots I never scattered fit for poetry
and I like to call it doo-wop —the ink spots I never scattered fit for poetry
I had this bright red thermos when I was younger
and my teeth would chatter with every sip from it I’d take
(the water wasn’t cold but I have a sensitive mouth)
maybe my memory dimmed the lights but
I don’t remember anything bright about that cafeteria in 1998
the stage curtains were a dusty dark teal and the name
of the school was sewn on in a sick orange fabric
fit to overlook the sticky speckled floor-tiles and brown table-benches
My favorite games were cat-and-mouse for Windows 95
and duck-duck-goose for kids who didn’t have Pokemon cards
and my teeth would chatter with every sip from it I’d take
(the water wasn’t cold but I have a sensitive mouth)
maybe my memory dimmed the lights but
I don’t remember anything bright about that cafeteria in 1998
the stage curtains were a dusty dark teal and the name
of the school was sewn on in a sick orange fabric
fit to overlook the sticky speckled floor-tiles and brown table-benches
My favorite games were cat-and-mouse for Windows 95
and duck-duck-goose for kids who didn’t have Pokemon cards
