 |
's Poetry - "Get Over It" |
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Life is a curse. If I think hard enough I can create an acceptable excuse for putting rat poison in my family's spaghetti sauce. One white noodle blotched with red, excited by the aphrodisiac but not showing it-- Nothing in the air but the smell of formaldehyde and the sound of sinews ripping. The snipped nerve of reason patiently awaits its dissection. Out of nowhere, the hot smell of salty flesh hits my tongue with the lingering sound of Misty's shattered look. My thoughts come crashing back, when Mrs. Hayla Parker, Honors English 10, looks up from her papers. That couldn't really have happened. Life can be good. Only it never is, and it probably never will be. "Remember: Call once and leave a message." I heard him alright. Yes sir. He jumped out of the phone and hit me straight in the nose with that one. (Mrs. Parker can't touch this memory.) One day I will see him again. After cursèd noodles bring my end. Life will improve when I die. C'est dommage! But why? Couldn't that needle have told me? I made a mistake. The red stained pasta slides down my throat with the pleasing taste of crushed tomatoes and tainted garlic. |
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All content Copyright Tammy Bowles 2000-2010 unless otherwise stated. |