Fuck Iambic Pentameter, I can't deal with it right now.
A sonnet minus the syllable work, because at two in the morning I don't care about meter.
From Your Devoted Shoo Fly
By Joanna Zwickel
When I’m around you I feel like the bug in your peripheral vision
That you can’t glance over at, because you’re trying to drive.
You notice my presence, and with momentary indecision
Turn away to discuss the first thing you can contrive.
You brush me off, like a daydream during a test
Grasping others as you would a last lifeline in a game show.
Entrapped in snake-like coils, the air leaves my chest
As my eyes forecast a torrential downpour with their glow.
We spend the night in a room, just ten feet apart
With you barely shooting a word or glance my way
Like soap in a bathtub you continue to dart
Sliding slippery along, keeping me at bay.
And yet, the harder you try to keep me out of view
The more I know, that you like me too.
From Your Devoted Shoo Fly
By Joanna Zwickel
When I’m around you I feel like the bug in your peripheral vision
That you can’t glance over at, because you’re trying to drive.
You notice my presence, and with momentary indecision
Turn away to discuss the first thing you can contrive.
You brush me off, like a daydream during a test
Grasping others as you would a last lifeline in a game show.
Entrapped in snake-like coils, the air leaves my chest
As my eyes forecast a torrential downpour with their glow.
We spend the night in a room, just ten feet apart
With you barely shooting a word or glance my way
Like soap in a bathtub you continue to dart
Sliding slippery along, keeping me at bay.
And yet, the harder you try to keep me out of view
The more I know, that you like me too.