Tuesday, April 23, 2013

The Shrug

Since I haven't made a post all month, I figured I might as well put one up now.  I wrote a poem a while ago called "The Shrug," inspired by a conversation my dad and I had about the constant use of the word "shrug" in stories.  I poked at the poem a little bit today to edit some things, so hopefully it has come out all right in the end.

The Shrug

I despise that thing you do,The symbol of simply not caring,The portrayal of plain lazinessIn preference to spoken words.

When I ask you a question,Or request an opinion,All I get is the tensionOf your shoulder muscles.

The upward, then downwardMotion of your bare shouldersCauses the vomit to scream up my throat.I become ill at the mere sight of you.

Oh, where is the cure?The refreshing articulationOf your smirking, grossly underused lipsIs all I need, and all I want.

No one does it as much as you.Thankfully I know others more eloquentAnd capable of accomplishing moreThan your infuriating shrug.

No comments:

Post a Comment