PAPER AIRPLANE

 

Ah, damn, I let her slip away

I could’ve talked to her

        or thrown a message

        on a paper airplane

 

but could’ve is such a nasty word

that paper airplane might not have

         in the right direction

I could’ve made a fool of myself

         without any success

 

I guess that doesn’t matter

I made an ass of myself by acting the past

         of a perverted voyeur

         or mad man follower

 

I suppose it doesn’t really matter how

         I feel anymore

I’m always fucking things up

I’m gonna need more persistence if

        I’m gonna make it

        in the future

Maybe the paper airplane would’ve been

        really cute afterall

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

1985 writing poems instead of listening to my English lit professor

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S74RW4RD's picture

I believe some of the best

I believe some of the best poems come out of not listening to an English professor.  In my undergrad days (or daze) I studied with one great one, about three or four mediocre, and two who were as rotten as broken eggs on a sidewalk in the noontime heat.  

 

Your poem is very poignant.  Many times I wanted to launch a paper airplane for such purposes, but none of them ever got airborne.  Frankly, none of the ambitions I had there ever got airborne.

 

Good poem, well-worded.


Starward

georgeschaefer's picture

we all think back to those

we all think back to those paper airplanes we never launched.  thanks for reading and commenting.