White Girl, No Starbucks

Location

I don’t wear makeup everyday.

Please tell me how that’s your problem

Or mine, to fix

When my days flow clearly

Without mascara dusting dark edges around them

I see kids wearing caps

Like J. Beibes, because their eyes

Don’t sink back far enough in their head

Too afraid of people looking through windows

Seeing truth for what it is…

 

Y’know, I can’t stand “girl” deodorant

You still sweat

But you smell pretty?

Smelling all old-spice and tea-tree,

Wearing hoodies, string-drawn tight

My leather jacket sings to me

When my arms brush my sides

My breath coincides

With the tides

While walking to my book-keeper

In the Library

 

I like Graphic Novels

I can read just fine

Even though dyslexia turns long lines into loug l!ues

I’ve been reading Shakespeare since grade school

I watched Midsummer as a toddler

Books washed away my ignorance

Like a tide pool

There’s more than one kind of creature

Graphic novels lack pretentiousness

Pouring out modern novels like verbose slugs

 

I grew up learning conciseness chews your biases back

Opens eyes, throws away the keys

We made so long ago

To lock ourselves into assumption’s repetitious rhythm

 

I grew up learning authenticity demands individual truth

Where the-one-and-only truth lies

Until you reach one person

Out of 7 billion

 

I grew up learning my body is my racecar

Handling only-so much revving,

So much-remodeling,

So much change before I can’t recognize myself

Bearing my worst nightmare

 

Give me succinct sincerity

Where poetry flows clearly

Without mascara round the edges

Without ball cap hedges

Deodorant dredges

Ignorance’s wedges

Give me water

I’ll wash all this away

Till I’m rubbed raw

Raw, authentic, 100%

Who I want to be

Who I choose to be

And that will always be

Me

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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