A shitty poem for my shitty friends who have a bad habit of standing me up, and for myself and my bad habit of shrugging it off as if it were nothing. I call this one Fuck You, but it's really called SATURDAY NIGHT. And, because I am not a poet, it's awful.
SATURDAY NIGHT:
look at me
look at me
on this satuday night
i sit here in the dim light
smell of toast wafts to my nostrils
the sound of liquid slips through the straw,
slipping into my eardrums
quiet sounds of microwaved popcorn, mechanical hums
look at me
look at me
on this saturday night
twice stood up
sounds of dear father coughing
as he lays on the couch,
the cheering