The east coast on it's passive continental shelf seems backwards to me on my "dynamic" west coast.
Reverting back now to an August past where the stereotypes of a NYU break coddle me.
Dancing outfitted youth filling my plastic cup before they fill their noses
My junctures attaching themselves to the somewhat faded open edges of California,
between
"less than satisfied"
and "underwhelmed"
while my feet wade in jealousy
Tragic California girl, please whine more about your tuitioned education of pleated skirt catholicism!
We can't get enough!
Want to, need to
hear more MORE about how you miss the fashion forward dirty lust coast.
Ennui filled irony,
ennui being less west,
less north,
less "hella boring",
(again again!)
Ennui filled irony is you
(me, all me!)
chewing on the edges of your tongue while miles away,
someone who feels their passive part of the continent unmoving and stagnant,
whines for my
(yours, mine and someday theirs)
dynamic crashing and jerking graveyard hometown.
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