Need some help
Hey,
I need some help with this. I have a poetry portfolio due tomorrow and I had to revise a few things. I want everyone's honest opinion on these, please. Don't tell me it's good, tell me what's wrong and what you didn't like and what you think I could do better with after reading it only once. More criticism = more revision = A for Nick. I would really appreciate it.
Tease
By Nicholas Frushour
Every time you say one thing and mean another
I want you to experience that
colossal frustration of being wrong
no matter what you say
for an hour.
When you wear low-cut tops and short skirts so you can say
“No, I have a boyfriend,” or
“You’re just not my type,”
I wish you an entire
icy winter’s day
in nothing but that skimpy outfit.
When you pretend to be interested for the sole purpose of receiving gifts or money
I want your bank account to
snowball overdraft fees
every hour
every day
for a week.
Each false phone number, address, or meeting time should earn you
one broken condom and
the month of uncontrollable worrying
that comes with it.
For all those times you get me turned on then blurt out
“I have a headache,” or
“I’m too tired,”
I wish you an
entire year
without an orgasm.
And for each time you frapped my heart
I wish you two
very long,
very difficult,
very expensive
divorces.
Open Door Policy
By Nicholas Frushour
In my room, there are no doorknobs. Even
if I wanted to, I can’t close my door.
I don’t mind my messiness, though others
might care. Cleaning is too much of a chore.
I sit in the chair; friends lie on my couch.
Whining, “things are worse than they were before.”
Ceaselessly complaining like that lonely
mother-in-law you can’t help but ignore.
Sometimes they get angry and yell at me,
“I thought you weren’t listening anymore.”
“You don’t mind my griping?” I thought, “Even
if I wanted to, I can’t close my door.”
These next two go together:
Dear Alarm Clock,
I hate you.
Please
leave me alone.
If you
wake me again,
I will
destroy you without fail.
Sleep.
Nicholas Frushour
Dear Television,
I’m sorry that
I threw the alarm clock at you this morning.
It wasn’t fun and games but
you still lost your eye.
The casualty I caused you
was completely unintentional.
Yet, even after its death
I still hate that alarm clock.
Nicholas Frushour
Thanks again for the help!
~Nick
I need some help with this. I have a poetry portfolio due tomorrow and I had to revise a few things. I want everyone's honest opinion on these, please. Don't tell me it's good, tell me what's wrong and what you didn't like and what you think I could do better with after reading it only once. More criticism = more revision = A for Nick. I would really appreciate it.
Tease
By Nicholas Frushour
Every time you say one thing and mean another
I want you to experience that
colossal frustration of being wrong
no matter what you say
for an hour.
When you wear low-cut tops and short skirts so you can say
“No, I have a boyfriend,” or
“You’re just not my type,”
I wish you an entire
icy winter’s day
in nothing but that skimpy outfit.
When you pretend to be interested for the sole purpose of receiving gifts or money
I want your bank account to
snowball overdraft fees
every hour
every day
for a week.
Each false phone number, address, or meeting time should earn you
one broken condom and
the month of uncontrollable worrying
that comes with it.
For all those times you get me turned on then blurt out
“I have a headache,” or
“I’m too tired,”
I wish you an
entire year
without an orgasm.
And for each time you frapped my heart
I wish you two
very long,
very difficult,
very expensive
divorces.
Open Door Policy
By Nicholas Frushour
In my room, there are no doorknobs. Even
if I wanted to, I can’t close my door.
I don’t mind my messiness, though others
might care. Cleaning is too much of a chore.
I sit in the chair; friends lie on my couch.
Whining, “things are worse than they were before.”
Ceaselessly complaining like that lonely
mother-in-law you can’t help but ignore.
Sometimes they get angry and yell at me,
“I thought you weren’t listening anymore.”
“You don’t mind my griping?” I thought, “Even
if I wanted to, I can’t close my door.”
These next two go together:
Dear Alarm Clock,
I hate you.
Please
leave me alone.
If you
wake me again,
I will
destroy you without fail.
Sleep.
Nicholas Frushour
Dear Television,
I’m sorry that
I threw the alarm clock at you this morning.
It wasn’t fun and games but
you still lost your eye.
The casualty I caused you
was completely unintentional.
Yet, even after its death
I still hate that alarm clock.
Nicholas Frushour
Thanks again for the help!
~Nick