Envy

Published April 24, 2013 by pipsqueak

i understand the sorrow of the solemn, round-faced teenage girl
who wears long denim skirts on Fridays with her sisters
and reads the dusty words of the Brönte sisters
she frowns upon her drunken, asinine peers – the fools!
but secretly she craves the flare, the fire of that brash athlete
who tramples and roars with his brash athlete cronies
he goes home and slumps on the side of his bed
blank, deflated of all movement
where the framework of approval is lost
in this boneless aloneness, he will certainly covet
the independence from the crack pipe of popularity
possessed by the pink-haired student
who talks back, snorts, flips the bird
and carves knotty roots upon his desk with a ballpoint
when his classmates call him a queer
but he is not free either. he sees me and wishes for
my goofiness, my guileless and earnest greetings
i’m like a fat pound cake, preserved and pre-packaged
so you can fully enjoy each moist tender morsel

now i envy no-one more than the petrified redwood
whose bark tears up the insides of the insects who bite it

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