My first job was when I was about 15. I had met
a girl named Hope who became my best friend. Hope and I were flunking math
class so we became speed freaks. This honed our algebra skills and we quickly
became whiz kids. For about 5 minutes. Then, our brains started to fry
and we were just teenage speed freaks.
Then, we decided to to seek gainful employment.
We got hired on as part time maids at the Holiday Inn while a maid strike
was happening. We were scab maids on speed and we were coming to clean
We were subsequently fired for pilfering a Holiday Inn guest’s quaalude
stash which we did only because we never thought someone would have the
nerve to call the front desk and say; THE MAIDS STOLE MY LUUDES MAN. But
someone did – or so we surmised – because we were fired.
I supppose maybe we were fired because we never actually CLEANED but rather
just turned on the vacuum so it SOUNDED like we were cleaning as we picked
the pubic hairs off the sheets and out of the tub then passed out on the
bed and caught up on the sleep we’d missed from being up all night speeding.
When we got fired, we became waitresses at an International House of Pancakes.
We were much happier there.
i’m in a little shock, it’s not a poem!
What makes a poem a poem and not an essay or some other kind of writing? I don’t know. I know that the writing is alive and it paints a picture. I believe the poet is speaking her truth but I’m not sure her truth is powerful or universal. It doesn’t speak to my own deepest truth so I wonder: Maybe this is a good poem, but it is not a Good Poem.
This is interesting writing, however, I don’t see what there is about the form, structure, words, or content that differentiates it from, say, a very short personal essay. I don’t feel like I am narrow-minded about what poetry should be, or how it should be presented. For example, I like the beats a lot. I just don’t see what makes this writing poetry. Help.
good and weird i like it