Emily and MP Fantastical poem

Mon, 10/27/2014 - 16:53 -- ejoyce



I broke my nail

I walked into a firepit

I ate cheetos to make me feel better, they were stale

I received an award

superlative silliest, while cryign

cryign, cryign, cryign,

ok, hi

you should be able to use emojis for your password.

I’ve betrayed the great poet gods.

Do you understand me?

No? ok, fair enough.

my bra fell off on stage

Why is no one named Chet anymore

or Brittany

or Miley

oh wait...

my belly says I need to poop brb

I heard it too

It grumbles and groans, the poop demanding to be released

Finally it is unleashed into the porcelain bowl in a furious hell-fire

Demolishing all things aesthetic in its wake

The carnage and aftermath cannot be erased from our memories

With a single 1-liter flush

It was mean.

It reminds me not to have two coffees in one day.

but screw you stupid small intestine!

Small intestine,

Source of indigestion,

Pain predestined,

My problem no longer clandestine.

How many words rhyme with intestine?

How many words rhyme with Nataliya?

Regalia, Genetalia



boob pillow

moving on

ok, hi

my fingers are funny

There are ten of them, but are the thumbs really fingers?

And what about toes?

they are little bubbles

ooh shiny bubbles

big shiny bubbles?

happy birthday

blow out the candles


What did you wish for?

A pony? a fudgesicle?

A smile? More wishes?

A fridge filled with fudgesicles?

A rainbow? a big pony? a miniature pony? A pony that doesn’t scare small children?


We sound like we’re on acid

or high

trip trip trippity trip trip

jk we’re sober

we’re just a little bit drunk on you

and high on summertime


I wish for a puppy.

and One time, Christian bought me a bracelet

I wore it as an anklet, from Guatemala, his home country

jk, that’s where his grandma’s sugar farm is

boy do I lOve sugar

Anyway, I wished for a boyfriend

I got one

the branklet is no longer with us

But he still is

oh, and Christian too.


and I’m tripsy enough to fall into a fire pit.

But I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen


This morning I woke up too early and went back to sleep for another hour or two

Had a really trippy dream

but it was a fun dream

You were there and it was at some sort of hotel/summer camp

Everyone was there

You, Connor, Nataliya, Paige

We partied and had fun

then I hooked up with Brady


after riding a pony

I guess that’s why I’m thinking about ponies today

I used to subscribe to Pony magazine

Is this even still a poem?

or am I just ranting?

Okay here have the laptop back

giggle giggle

Brady did get hot though

to quote you

and Evie

and Morgan

more than them have said that

feet are weird

I am too honest

So give me that honesty-

thumbs up or thumbs down to Brady

(not right now of course but perhaps later in the summer)

“Oh I see”

Okay I’ll shut up about that






jk not really

I just like to mess around with words

and Edwin Arlington Robinson

Is Edwin hot? cuz if you are messing with him, I need to approve

It won't let me paste a picture but here:


He's a poet



Burning Red


Love Runs Out

that’s a lie

love never runs out

maybe it’s just transferred

maybe it just expands

like a bubble

never to pop though

so I guess not a bubble

love love

who loves love who loves love






no, I’ll stay behind

I cant feel my feet

I don’t think it’s normal

to have your feet fall asleep while running

oh well

since When am I normal

since When do I acknowledge pain

ok bye



My friend and I were feeling creative, and she channels her energy through words, and I through art, but I figured I'd try it her way.  In the end, we made a poem that's crazy, but is somehow lyrical and so telling of who we are.

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