A Day in the Life of They

Hello English-speaking wide web. The other day, while searching for the bit of nonsense that I plopped before a recent post, I came across a stash of some old poems that I wrote a couple years ago when I was more convinced of my own potential for genius and less convinced that I was probably just a relatively normal person who spent their whole childhood dreaming of being a poet. Nonetheless, I kindof like to think that some of them aren’t half bad (aka are freaking genius works of poetry that should be anthologized IMMEDIATELY omg I’m the next T.S. Eliot), and have decided to post one and pretend to myself that you’re going to read it. I do realize I’ve been doing a bit more sharing lately and less indubitably insightful observing. I can explain: now that I’ve graduated, I have to dedicate more of my time and energy to being a grown up (it’s really hard; I don’t like it) and less to exposing the truth behind pop culture etc. In other words, I want the validation of page views and likes and the ever titillating comment notifications without any of the hard work. Aren’t I the quintessential modern woman?

And now, for those of you still reading this post, without much further ado, I present to you “A Day in the Life of They”

The little bit of further ado: if you don’t feel like reading zees poem, you can watch me read it instead! Fun fact: I couldn’t memorize my own poem past a verse or two.

And oh, I almost forgot (total lie, this is my favorite part) to include this magnificently eerie video created by an artistic friend of mine.

A Day in the Life of They

They walk the streets
of your small towns and suburbs
resting their very white shoes
in small, murky puddles at stoplights.

They converse pleasantly
with your parents and teachers
about poor Richard who
blew his brains out
in the next town over but
it’s just as well anyway-

he was always so…

On Saturday mornings
they trim their hedges in tidy
spheres and rectangles
with very sharp, tidy hedge trimmers

and when they put them back
on the designated hooks and shelves
in the tool shed

they take a moment to
sob hysterically and repeat
muttered, nonsensical phrases
until they catch their breath.

Back in the house they arrange
a bowl of fruit on the white table,
relived to have once again avoided

the dreadful embarrassment
that would have undoubtedly
calling for help over something
that turned out to be so trivial and temporary.

Today is always a good day
to wash the sheets
and scrub the floors.

A tidy home
is a tidy mind.

A tidy home
is a tidy mind.

A tidy home
A tidy home
A tidy home

is a tidy mind


6 thoughts on “A Day in the Life of They

  1. Pingback: Talking To Myself :: flesyM oT gniklaT « Ezra Won't Shut Up

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  3. “he was always so…controversial” its driving me crazy, what did Richard do?? otherwise interesting poem, also the video, not gonna lie, it should be featured in the next remake of “The Shinning” since Hollywood will eventually do it anyways.

    • The name is reference to a poem by one of my favorite poets, Edwin Arlington Robinson http://www.bartleby.com/104/45.html . I think from now on, if I post any more poetry, I’m going to hyperlink allusions whenever possible (which will be interesting since nods to other authors are the pre-internet hyperlink). But other than that, I don’t know what Richard did. The important thing is the sterile response to Richard’s death. Because Richard Cory was well loved and respected, I guess (and really, I’m guessing because I don’t remember what I was thinking when I wrote this) you could say that it didn’t matter if Richard was great or terrible…people were going to talk when he killed himself no matter what.

      • it’s nice to know people still write poetry, because i’m starting to witness that people are less interested in writing poetry, thanks to all the technology. i don’t know, but in a way, i can see Richard thinking “folks gonna talk about you ’til the day you die. Ain’t nothing you can do about it. but it ain’t what people call you; it’s what you answer to.” Continue writing poetry, we need more poets in this day and age.

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