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Moments as a Teenager in the 80’s as Captured through Clumsy Poems

I’ve been reminiscing a lot lately (mostly due to the fact that I am hopped up on some supremely excellent medicine like codeine for my lingering bronchitis and can’t leave the house) bringing up a whole mess of feelings and visions of me being depressed and overly emotional as a young girl (not to mention smelly, sad, and downright embarrassing).

You know, the good stuff.

Like how I cried (well, actually sobbed) when the last episode of Family Ties came on and I realized that I would probably never seen Scott Valentine (Mallory’s husband Nick) on TV ever again.

Or the time I thought I had dressed up really cute for the Halloween dance so that I could find a boyfriend and be happy but ended up drunk instead (’cause no one asked me to dance) on Peppermint Schnapps while my friend Trina Tygrett was passed out with dried puke down the front of her and me suffering from my first wicked case of Beer Butt.

Like I said, the good stuff.

Which reminds me, thinking back to those days when I was an uber dork seems poetic in a way and, since I am stuck in the house with nothing better to do, I figured I would try to capture some of the highlights of my pathetic teenage years in non-rhyming lines to convey how utterly sound the concept of teen poetry is when it comes to “sharing” a feeling with the world.

So turn on some experimental jazz music and get ready people, the poetry slam is about to begin:

Poem #1

On the state of the world after Chris Moore refused to check off whether or not he liked me on the note I left him on his desk

Darkness falls,
And gleams through eyes
Unwilling to spare a moment
Any moment
Pens stay immobile, resting on your desk
Still as souls
And you laugh like Russians invading Afghanistan
Should I have included a “maybe” instead?

Poem #2

The Rise of Jenny Root: Junior High Thespian (While I Remain Unsung, Yet Again)

Always the favorite
Singing through your nose like
A musical cold
And the lead goes to you
Amid much smiling on your part
And I didn’t even get to be a dancing stalagmite
Backstage again,
I am regulated
With the rest of talentless souls who took Shop instead of Drama.
Your costumes will have piss on them
Mark my words

Poem #3

The Imagined Vengeance on Jamie Nyquist: Locker Terrorist

One day it will be I sir
Who will keep you from getting to Biology on time
One day it will be I sir
Who will slam your locker door right when you get it open
One day it will be I sir
Who will grab your stunningly ample breast and twist it until you fall to the ground
One day
Oh but,
One day
I will come for you when you least expect it and,
Burn your body with the flame thrower I saw at the Army/Navy store
And dance on your smoking corpse until
All that remains is skin stuck to the crevices of my

Poem #4

I didn’t know you were cool Chad Nesland until I broke your heart

I ended it before the dance
Saying that I needed space
And you almost cried in front of me
Then Bon Jovi came on and you were lost
In a sea of moving bodies
After that they all wanted you
And you became worthy of my time
And I remember kissing you on top of my mom’s waterbed
Only I forgot about the swallowing your spit part
But you didn’t want me back
Because you were cool
And so I moved on to someone else
Whose name I forget
And you never talked to me again
Although I did see you smile
When I kicked Chris Daugherty in the balls
Hope springs eternal

Poem #5

On Discovering Joni Mitchell’s Music and Thinking How Deep It Makes Me When I Talk about It

Is it the color or the feeling?
A Case of You makes me long
And yearn
Do you know Joni’s music?
Well it’s really good
You have to be in touch
With your own depth
And be willing to bleed
When listening to it.
Don’t worry if you don’t like it
You have to be
Mature to get it.

Poem #6

Why Can’t You Love Me Greg Ryerson? No, Seriously, Why Can’t You? (The Longest Poem)

How can you ignore me when I am rubbing your leg
During the movie Major League?
Or when I sexily suck
The salted butter off my fingers
With my tongue
The way I imagine sexy
Would look to you
Even with popcorn kernels stuck in my teeth.
How can you ignore the way I rub the fabric
Of your acid wash jeans
Between my thumb and forefinger
While I pretend not to be doing it
And after the movie
After my mom drops you off at Josh Brown’s house
You never call
Never tell me you want me too
And I figure
That you’re too overwhelmed by my
Womanly charms
And I’ll try again tomorrow
But another chance doesn’t come
Because you end up
At the Sadie Hawkin’s Dance with
Michelle Daquilanto
While I stay home brushing my hair
And crying to the song
Groovy Kind of Love by Phil Colins
until I puke.

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