Here Are Your Nineties – creative writing course (300 Level)
Spinning and hustling to their 3:00,people with earth-tone jogging. Suits pass me on that green green path – the one with the almond trees and lines of reckless wheeled shoes in motion.
A tomorrow later, we open up the dinner with the corduroy
package – set up nicely in front of the flash-tube,taking surplus fat-free information with unimaginative whitish popcorn.
It really happened –
a low sodium crunch with
a million-dollar touchdown;
the empty crowd screams at
those cheerleaders with their
see-through pom-poms, leaning over a bubbling melting pot to keep warm.
The alternative rock diet pork-rind ball (down—then up)
flies away as a gray-skinned player
with a rainbow mouth stops and
fingers his joints in front of the camera
wearing a Dennis Rodman jersey.
Another day – a rise of the sun
in long-forgotten hues:
looks like Apollo got his pension today,
blazing on the shattered tail-lights
of a halting crimson auto
belonging to a woman named Sue.
She brakes, shifting gears, shifting blame,
and spaces into her rear-view mirror
that sees everything
but notices nothing
of the angry postman and his special friend, Oberon
sticking an antioxidant vitamin-supplement
crystal needle into his Coca-Cola/McDonalds shirt
with one ripped sleeve.
We’ll walk past a stadium tomorrow, featuring a concert
—reactionary lyrics—with a
smoky line almost as long as for a courtroom.
There’s nothing to do—
we’ll rest our eyes on the bleached
white walls with white water
splashed on its underside; I’ll notice
our old friend, written like she
always will, with an
excessive eating disorder, that word