This is for you

This is for you
Mr. Secret Agent Man
Who bought me milk when I ran out
Who washed my windows and cleaned my room
Who stayed up with me when I couldn't sleep
And who sang the theme songs of my youth.

I love you.

To go or not to go?

I've been feeling happy recently. Yes, that's boring, but it's a rare feeling for me as well. Also, note to self: Never go to cycling class again. The seats hurt.

Oh, and I have an assignment from my creative writing group to make up the first five lines of a story. Then, when we meet again, we're going to swap them and finish each other's stories. I'm thinking about writing a story from the point of view of a ghost. Or maybe of someone with split personality disorder. Something interesting. Or maybe I should do a happy story like bringing a pet home for the first time or waking up to find that you have cool superpowers.

Lastly, open mic night: To go or not to go? And if I go, what would I do? Interpretive dance? LARPing? Poetry slam? So many options.

Love Poem for the man on the train who stole my sandwich

I remember you running
Down the railway
And how you
Leaped over the turnstile
And dash away with my heart
And my sandwich
(That was my lunch you know).

I remember your coattails
Flapping in your wake
Waving goodbye to me enthusiastically
I should have slipped my phone number
In your coat pocket
That way
You would call me
And I could find out who you are
And where you were
And get my sandwich back
(That was my lunch, you know).

Too bad the police didn't know
That they were chasing after you
For only a few thin slices
Of measly turkey
And limp lettuce
And one tomato
With suspicious purple spots

I remember your big brown eyes
And how smart they looked
Well...
I hope they water
When you taste
The spicy mustard I put on it.
The sandwich, I mean
Not your eyes.

Here's my number.
Call me
Sometime
Mr. Turkey Sandwich Stealer
From the A-Train.
Because I do believe
I have fallen in love with you

But mostly,
I just want my sandwich back
(That was my science project, after all).