Wednesday, December 15, 2010


English majors like me have many skills.
Among those skills, I excel at one in particular: poem writing.

Here is a poem I wrote today:

The biggest zit,
it hurts so bad,
it's on my face.
It makes me mad.

This amazing work of brilliance is not based in reality.
Which is something I can say, since most of you will not actually see my face today.
You will only read this fictional piece about my face.

Yes. Fiction.


Marge Bjork said...

absolutely stunning! what makes it even more impressive is that you can capture the feeling of a fictional zit!

Chris said...

I do believe the greatest "lost" work of poetry ever written since the dawn of human language was the story of Joe, one of your toes that you wrote in 3rd grade. If we could have found it, we'd all be famous. Now, I try and talk mom into scanning all of Kathryn's drawerings so they can be uploaded to the interwebs where they shall circulate as electronic impulses until the end of time, or the information age, ready to be downloaded, along with your zitty ditty, at the click of the mouse. I wonder if my grandchildren will understand what it was like to not be able to conjure up images and stories of their family on the computer whenever they want. So different.

MARCIE said...

I have to say it leaves me frightened
to think that you are so enlightened
that you can write about a zit
and then proceed to publish it.

Polly said...

My favorite poem that no longer exists is the one you wrote about "when your sick and your mother doesn't believe you" My mistake, you had mono!