Typed Music


I suppose these are just little pieces of me, wrapped up in words.

The forgotten melodies of my mind.


7. Classroom exchange

You said:
“I’m sick of poetry.
I bet the first poet was pissed
But they all just copied him.”
I said that
Poetry wasn’t like that
It was words spilling
From an overfilled glass;
They staggered and slurred
On the page until
They seemed to have a meaning.
And you said:



Inspired by what I should say to the boy who sits next to me in English when he complains against poetry...

I actually just agree that I hate studying it...

How pathetic am I?

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