Category: tantrums

  • A poetic tantrum

    Fuck. I’ve caught up. No more travel stories. No more muddy pant legs or sweaty scarves or damaged cameras. It’s all over. I’ve got a lease in my hand and a pen that is about to sign my life back into normal-dom. And I don’t wannaaaaaaaa. Somewhere along the way, I got the idea that staying put and having a job and having pets and being ‘normal’ was horrific. So, this pen represents for me a life that I don’t want to live. Ah! What should I do? I was just frolicking among the rubber trees in Laos and now I’m in a sterile cubicle. My synapses are protesting. I’m pounding my feet into the warm Santa Monica ground and screaming and wailing and tantruming more than I did when I was fourteen and calling my mom a bitch. I am in a perfect state of confused chaotic panic that I secretly love because it can only mean a new beginning. In times like these, I can only write a poem, which is weird because I’m not really a poetry kind of girl. Something is seriously amiss.
    I saw the world
    I wrote a blog
    I ate a lot
    I pet some hogs
    I sweat on trains
    I puked up peas
    I chased the rains
    I switched to teas
    I met new friends
    I donned new clothes
    I gave kids pens
    I took some blows
    I pet a fish
    Saw skirts on men
    Some made of pigs
    Some made of hens
    I had this thing
    It defined who I am
    Now, very over
    And I question again
    Back to life
    Back to reality
    Searching for a word
    That rhymes with reality
    Back to work
    Back to before
    This time it’s different
    I’m so much more