Media promises fast cars, big dreams
But my G.I. Joe Kung Fu grip can’t grasp
The toy soldier thought platoons and war teams
Fighting doubts with synaptic head gun rasp.
Pip Pip poetry pops Prozac, late night
Red Bulls, red eyes, chemical concentrate.
Scratch scratch poetry writes real dreams, night-light
Soft-says to fatigued pupils: “dilate.”
Ain’t no yesterday no more, miss dolly
The city sponge absorbed our memories,
Blew, like dandelions, our teenage folly,
and tore blank pages from our diaries.
This lifestyle paints the neon moral boat
We sail away from “the before” we wrote.
But my G.I. Joe Kung Fu grip can’t grasp
The toy soldier thought platoons and war teams
Fighting doubts with synaptic head gun rasp.
Pip Pip poetry pops Prozac, late night
Red Bulls, red eyes, chemical concentrate.
Scratch scratch poetry writes real dreams, night-light
Soft-says to fatigued pupils: “dilate.”
Ain’t no yesterday no more, miss dolly
The city sponge absorbed our memories,
Blew, like dandelions, our teenage folly,
and tore blank pages from our diaries.
This lifestyle paints the neon moral boat
We sail away from “the before” we wrote.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
SpringRayyn
Grania
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