Community College

So, today, for creative writing, I wrote a poem slamming community college students as consumerist, idiotic bastards. I mean, I had wanted to write something about 'em from just looking at them a lot in the library (which is now my second home. I know the green chair patterns better than my bedspread.) and I even did that artsy list of brand names over which said bastards would walk into the library obsessing. It was quite postmodern.

Then I read it. It wasn't even good, but I was feeling bold. I got a lot of weird looks (I guess no one appreciates lines as brilliant as "Snickers, Code Red, Vista, remedial" anymore. Their loss.). My teacher looked at me and offered his typical "Good! Good." Self-esteem fodder, and I knew it. You had to wait for his muddled nitpicking to bubble to the surface. "You did get a little lost." There it is! So I got lost in a freaking five stanza poem. Great. "You should definitely go to the Chester campus."

Seriously, I don't mean to be an arrogant jerk with it. Poetry is annoying like that; you can't really hide behind caharacters and stories.

Some dude who hates black people can write a character in a novel who's a racist jackass and everyone will hate the character but love the author for his insight into such a depraved mind. The racist poet is just expressing his mind. No hiding from that crap.

So, in the end, I learned to stick to nature and whatnot. Emily Dickenson probably realized she shouldn't write about her staring at old people out her window constantly. I doubt anyone wanted to hear about Edgar Allen Poe's inner toe fetish. So keep it impersonal, people!