I want to write you shitty poetry that makes my pen explode
But instead I stand upon the table and scream
Hot Chips! Now!
I am getting older and my body cannot hold me up
Nothing sweet can stay afloat in this much salt
I am so over yoga and so over being sober
I am so clever that it sticks me to my seat
Please, waitress!
Come and clear away my dangerous young body,
Let me digest the senseless beauty I have seen
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