Of a school bus.
A kiss on a red
cheek.
Fingers bound
with twine
and a half eaten
Ring Pop.
My thoughts, on God, girls and guitar. To be honest, it's no longer a good summary, since it doesn't involve poetry. And since I would replace "guitar" with "music" in general. But then they wouldn't all nicely be G's, would they? This is my vichyssoise of verbiage, most verbose:
Behold! Here lies the slovenly student, sickly and sleepless, as is not uncommon among those of a scholarly tendency. An empty can of some generic soft drink sits close at hand, the sticky contents lining its metallic walls. A forgotten, or just ignored, cereal bowl is its companion, and the spoon inside shows the residue of what had once been milk. Not skim milk, alas, and therein lies a cause to the young man’s ever growing waist.
Ha! Such silly things to be preoccupied with, as much more important matters engrave yet more lines in an already furrowed forehead. Forsooth! Schooling and education present difficulty and stress, but what young man in his proper mind with all of his functioning emotional apparati would even let such inconsequential elements of young life occupy so much as a quarter of his mind when there are women at hand? Indeed, the female gender beguiles even the most solid and grounded men, and her charms wage insidious war on the psyche of Man!
However, THIS particular specimen of masculinity suffers not from a certain feminine presence in his already heavily burdened brain. No, this foolish oaf is bothered by the lack of any dilemmas of the female sort. Child! You are currently free! Fear not, for romantic predicaments will inevitably fall on your path! Wish not for that which will surely come uninvited.