a series of seed poems by Rebecca Jarrett

This poem is called “things I shouldn’t have bought at the grocery store.”

An orchid that I don’t know how to take care of.

Two spice brooms that give me a headache.

Halloween candy, not for trick-or-treaters, for myself.

This poem is called “teen angst.”

Love isn’t real, probably.
Neither is Santa. Get over it.  

This poem is called “a complete list of things I learned in high school that helped me in the real world.”

.
.
.
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This poem is called “what I think about while we make out.”

I need to buy a watch. Do people actually enjoy doing this?

I wish you would trim your moustache.

This poem is called “Parker.”
The last time I saw you was at the Quick Trip

you worked at, off Winder Highway.

You overdosed a month later and I realized that

young people can die. Now your Snapchat is listed as

“needs love.”

This poem is called “what I want to say to Donald Trump.”
Build that wall! Make it huge and impenetrable.

Build it around yourself.

This poem is called “how to come out to your extended family.”

It’s 2016. Post it on Facebook.

This poem is called “Tinder messages I didn’t respond to.”

What’s the difference between me and my couch? (x 30)

Hi have you ever heard of the Cleveland steam roller

Hey. Nudes?

This poem is called “I really hate my mother.”

The evil, calculating, manipulative shrew. I will never be like her.

Sometimes, I wish my dad was a widower instead of a divorcé.

 

-Originally published in The Elixir’s 2016-17 print edition

-Photo credit to Urban STL

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