My So-Called Life on “Experimental” Poetics


Or, “I cannot bring myself to eat a well-balanced meal in front of my mother. it just means too much to her.”

 

 

I thought the 90s were the end of the world

 

the 90s were the end of the world

 

everyone was exposing their navels & piercing

flannel or loose it was for revolutioning against

nothing that was the thing & all the girls

skinny because it was the end of the world.

 

the spectre of a kiss glamorous marshmallow

blob toasted a lip it’s a job or a wedding where

everyone has their first kiss drunk on apathy.

 

people throwing themselves at people is like,

the basis of civilization.

 

I keep wondering if there’s like a term for this.

 

true experimentation depends upon clear,

concise communication.

 

there can be no kissing for kissing’s sake a kiss

must lead somewhere.

 

students opposed to the practice of vivisection

must put this belief in writing.

 

what sort of activity is an experiment?

it’s a purposeful activity designed to solve a what

the color isn’t a color it is actual blood

 

people, your hearts must be clearly labeled

before returning them to the cart!

 

you have to develop like this combination you,

on the spot –

 

romance is this thing you misplace, like an

earring.

 

you force your husband into a car & don’t

tell him where you’re going.

 

she’s that medicine woman.

 

is her hair long or short?

 

is it legal? you have to wear heels.

 

that’s the magic carbohydrate what’s the magic word?

 

they don’t have food where he lives.

I can’t pretend that. it sounds made up.

 

it’s showtime

 

maybe I’d rather have a fantasy

only programmed to never admit it.

 

lots of people try so hard they can’t

hear the music.

 

remember to smile

 

it’s a system that’s been devised. like your life just figured

out how to get good. it looks real.

 

the fact that I still had an elbow; it was the perfect moment.

 

it was a failed experiment

 

anyway not in our lifetime.

cliches happen.

look at you. you’re acting weird.

you went dancing. it was a

failed experiment.

we’ve become like furniture.

we are terrible dancers. dance.

 

why did our generation always dance so far apart?

 

they never took the time to learn the REAL steps.

 

I have to say, when my father warms something up,

it tastes better than when anyone else does.

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