Composition II

A Poem by Alvah Goldbook

Feeling feeling feeling feeling
I fall mid-stride, escape, my hands claw
On the edges I sing ugly, make sure
No one hears me but I do
I do I do I do
But I don’t tell anybody
Nobody f***s f**k damn

I PREDICT
Cream traveling through coffee
And my heart sinks; I’m hypnotized from such
Mystically gifts, but I dare never point and establish
A bond
Others, me and this
This is mine, and nobody will like it
Nobody will like, I won’t tell them

The teacher sits so far from where I am sitting
And I type loud, I’m being f*****g obnoxious
The rules, f*****g MLA term paper bullshit
Bullshit, the bullshit can feel this, the bullshit can’t feel
"Stay neutral"
Tell that to Proust, twat