(the assignment was to write a poem about your observations of a stranger, and to use a different poetic voice than the one you normally use. so i rhymed. ew.)
there is an old woman sitting on a chair,
inconspicuously in the way,
sitting very quietly there;
it is plain she does not want to stay
in the way her mouth wrestles with her frown;
i can see her patience beginning to fray;
i look up, so she looks down,
and asks me if she is in the way;
i turn my eyes back toward the ground
because i can see her patience beginning to fray
and i do not know what i should say
to this old woman who is in the way.
2 comments:
you should say "yo beeotch, you're in the way. yo." except more polite, because that would be rude. and then you should go comment on my poem, because it's really old and had really clever allusions to things, and i'm very ill and demand servitude.
i kind of twist my mouth at those people and then flit away before they tell me to put shoes on.
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