I met a girl yesterday; I wish I found out
more about her other than her future last name:
Buscaino. I saw her through the window of my
classroom, the professor going on about
the signaling in cells and the need for something.
I was already drooling, my head resting on the make-do
pedestal formed by my right hand and arm,
body slowly going limp. As soon as I saw her,
I jolted awake as if bitten by bullet ants and almost
raised my hand to say, “The answer is love!”
I could only thank whoever designed the building
with its huge windows, allowing me to see
most of her: straight, long black hair, lightly
toasted brown skin, a deep dimple on her
left cheek, and a purple peacoat and jeans,
both of which she filled out well. The windows,
not big enough to see what shoes she wore
to complete my mental picture, made her
look like she floated past the building.
I stayed awake, only to think of how I shall compare
her to a summer’s day, or if that pretty mama,
is she single? As soon as the room is abuzz
with the rustling of bags, I’ll find you
amongst the thousands unnamed on campus.
This poem is untitled because in the poem, I don't know the name of the girl that I saw while I was in class. There's a few things going on in the poem I'd like to mention. I describe the girl in pretty good detail to contrast the word "something" when I'm talking about what's happening in class. Although I'm falling asleep and not paying attention in class, this girl commandeers my attention with just a glance...slash stare. When I wrote the summer's day followed by the pretty mama part, I was contrasting old and new romantic lines from Shakespeare and Ne-Yo. I think that's about it. Anyways, enjoy!
i dig it.
ReplyDeleteme too. good stuff emil :)
ReplyDelete