Thursday, September 07, 2006
Allegory For Sophomore Seiminar
Going through the few remnants I've saved from my days at NYU, I came across the only paper I was ever asked to write for my Major. The assignment was to write a poem about a memorable event in our lives. I wrote the following. It made me happy to write it, and I got an A!
Well, I got a smiley face, which is the art major equivalent of an A.
"Allegory for Sophomore Seminar" by Carmela Machiato
And so I was weepy, and full of self pity
as I sat all alone on the skirts of the city.
Along came my friend ----, who gave me a light
and we sat there and smoked but he couldn't sit tight.
Because he was antsy and bored with my story
and sick of my whining which he thought was boring.
But just to appease me he said "tell me again?"
(And these are the joys of a gay guy best friend).
So I told him again of my date from last night,
who broke my poor heart and ruined my life.
He listened, disinterested, his expression was bland.
But when I was done he took hold of my hand.
"Darling," he said, as he looked in my eyes,
"let me tell you some things about girls and guys."
"There's one type of girl," he said, looking at me
"who imagnes she knows just how love should be."
"She gets her heart broken." He said, monotone.
"And truly believes she'll die old and alone."
"But then, one fine day..." his voice slightly rose
"she meets the right guy, and their true love grows."
"and it grows and it grows, and they get engaged.
That girl wonders why she was ever enraged.
She can't believe she had ever been sad.
The rest of her life will be blissful and glad."
With this he smiled, and I smiled back.
I had no idea ---- had so much tact.
Then he took another drag, and exhaled, and said:
"And on the night before that perfect guy weds
there's the type of girl he Ruffies and rapes on the floor
of the bachelor party bathroom and then kicks out the door.
And then he forgets her, like he never knew her
and it's that kind of girl, my dearest, that you are."
With that he took his car keys and walked quickly away.
And I went home and cried in my bedroom, all day.
Ta da! $40,000 a year, people. Obviously, money well spent.
Posted by Carmela Machiato at 12:38 PM