poetry
it bites
like you wouldn't
believe--as i coast my
sweaty
though cold, slightly numb
fingers across an unfeeling
(duh it's inanimate)
keyboard I
i, (if you want
to be particular, accurate, annoying)
realize that
i kind of need to pee
perhaps i've had too much
sweet, profound, lovely
tea to drink?
the aftertaste was bitter, like
a trite analogy in a
poem written by a barely-literate teenager