The Lion's Golden Girl
a four word poem
Won't look at me.
I've been staring for
half an hour now,
she'd be dead if
I was one of
those pure bloody idiots.
Stop reading that book,
you're two months ahead.
Look up. Look up.
I've been waiting for
you to notice me
since the first year.
After the toad incident,
your glance rarely slid
to my patient gaze.
All I wanted then
was your friendship, or
even just a kind
word now and then.
But you've grown up,
and I've grown up,
and would one dance
be so bad, really?
I know you were
asked by one bloody
"international sensation," but he
wouldn't care about you,
couldn't care about you,
like I always will.
The Trio's Brightest Third
the same, long poem
You are my shining
star, essentially what I've
been waiting for since
age three: first sight,
boring tiny pre-school chairs
and one small, puffy
girl, reading. At three.
"What are you reading?"
I wanted to say.
"Read me a story?"
I wanted to say.
But instead I let
my Gran drag me
back to the silent
castle of broken dreams.
Please, Don't Say No
I write for you…
Since then I've been
longing for your smile,
waiting for those sparkling
eyes to light up
when they see me.
Maybe now they will.
Guess I'd better ask.
"Will you go to
the Ball with me?"
It's Never Me, Huh.
the heart-rending, lousy conclusion