Me, and my mind in a minute

Today's poem is very random, but that is what I like about it. I don't feel the need to explain all the poems that I write, however this one I feel i should give a little backround on how this poem came to be. It is a very simple poem, it is about me, basically. If you have ever been in the situation, where somone askes you to tell them about yourselves, and especially in this day and age where we have Facebook and Blogs and whatever else that let's us tell the entire world wide web about ourselves, what exactly do you say? I mean, where do you start and stop? what is enough information, what is too much? I can agree most people have enough common sense to know this already, however, do you ever find yourself rambling on about insignificant details? Maybe when meeting someone new, or at a job interview? Or perhaps when you are filling out information on said facebook or myspace? Is is just me? lol.  I also tend to jump around a lot, from subject to subject, as if my mouth and my mind don't match up. Anywho, that is how this poem was created. I think that was the biggest explanation for the most obvious poem I have ever written. :P

Me, and my mind in a minute.

Me, and my mind in a minute

Old clothes, but clean clothes

And cheap new ones

And shower caps-twice a week

Or it will die, but it is dye

(my artificial intelligence)

But real eyes like my fathers

And a real voice like my mothers

Not my mothers

My brothers

Gramps calls “Hullo Mark!”

“It’s Sara…the oldest….and the girl.”

Oh and no heels, just flats

Or else I’ll go down on my ass

And peanut butter or cheese dip

(I’m hypoglycemic)

And too much pizza, size 4 is a phantom

And horrible with a glue gun

So my purse is nailed shut

………………trail off a lot…….…space cadet……………

No smoking please, I’m not done yet

My favorite is purple

But I’ll wear mostly blue (real eyes, my fathers)

And no nails, I eat them for breakfast

Not really, but

Coffee

Coffee

Coffee

And pop tarts (strawberry)

And I’ll marry Jimmy Stewart, in 1939

In the fall, because that’s best

Or is it autumn?

No more tears

Because they got rusty-except when my car dies

Like my hair

And a kidney stone

Damn coffee.

To-do list:

Keep the apartment clean

Read short-stories from Alex

finish new poem

Pick out poem for close reading

Deposit check

Finish this week's homework

Trim bangs

Write Jessica

Buy food

=]