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Would You Be My Corn Muffin?

Submitted by on April 25, 2012 – 5:23 am One Comment

Would You Be My Corn Muffin?
By Calvero

I was sitting
on the train
and I had just finished
a corn muffin
       and it was a really tasty
corn muffin
too,
       and, because
I’m so innately chubby,
I sat there
on the train
all by myself
and all I could think about
was how much
I really missed
the tasty corn muffin
I had just
devoured.

I missed
my corn muffin
a lot.

       So much so
that I just sat there
in my seat
and stared longingly
at the numerous
corn muffin crumbs
that had fallen
on my crotch,
wishing they could somehow
collect themselves
and gel together
like the T-1000
from Terminator 2
and form a new,
smaller corn muffin
for me to eat
and enjoy,

and the thought of that
made me real happy
at first,
but then the thought of that
made me real sad
at second.

It made me real sad
because I was missing
a corn muffin.

       Not
a person.
       A corn muffin…

I was missing
a corn muffin,
and missing
a corn muffin
is sad,

and sometimes
I feel like
I’m missing people
but when I do
I’m never sure
who it is
I’m missing,
and when you’re not sure
who it is
you’re missing
I’m pretty sure
that just means
you miss
having people
to miss,

and as I sat there
missing
my corn muffin
I felt the train
come to a stop.
I felt the train
come to a stop
so I made myself
stop staring at my crotch
because
I didn’t want the people
getting on
to walk by
and be like,
       Yo,
what’s with this lunatic
who can’t stop
staring
at his crotch?

and it was
a good thing
I did make myself stop
staring at my crotch
because as I looked up
this red-headed girl
walked over
and sat down
in the seat
in front of me
and she was
really pretty
       this red-headed girl,
and as I looked
at her
I could feel it.
       I could feel her
giving my heart
a boner.

I could feel
my heart
getting horny
for her heart
because she was
really pretty
and because
she was wearing
an olive colored
pea coat
which I thought was
so cute
and so funny
for some reason,
and even though
I didn’t know her
at all
I was like,
       Oh
that’s soooo
something
she would do.
That’s soooo
like her
to wear an olive colored
pea coat,

and I secretly giggled
to myself
at what a character
she was,
and as she fidgeted around
trying to get comfortable
in her seat
in front of me,
I looked at the beautiful back
of her beautiful head
and her hair
was a little bit damp,
and her damp hair
left me
to hypothesize
that she had either
just been snorkeling
       or
that she had just recently
taken a shower,
and I ended up guessing
that she had just recently
taken a shower
because she smelled good
and because
not too many people
go snorkeling
in New England
either.
       Especially not
during the winter,

and as I sat there
behind her
admiring
the beautiful back
of her beautiful head,
I wished so badly
that I was
somehow wearing
a pea colored
olive coat
so that I could be
the ying
to her yang,
       the Cousin Larry
to her Balki Bartokomous,
so that without saying
so much as a word
I could just get up,
walk over to her
and sit in her lap
and slowly
fall asleep
in her arms
as she lovingly petted
my head
like I was a cat,

but
I wasn’t wearing
a pea colored
olive coat,
       because
even though
I’m no fashionista,
I’m pretty sure
that pea colored
olive coats
don’t exist,
and this left me
all alone
in my seat
with nothing
but my crumby
crotch,
       wishing so badly
that I had the courage
to sit down
next to her
and be like,

       “Excuse me,
I know
I’m not wearing
a pea colored
olive coat,
but would you mind
possibly
being my corn
muffin?

Would you mind
if I just sat here
next to you
and held your hand
and listened
to Green Day
on my headphones
while you
looked out the window
and daydreamed
about Coffee
Coolattas?

We wouldn’t
have to speak.
       We could just
own the air
around
us.

We could
own it
together,
       just you
and I,
and I could
fill my lungs
with you
and you
could fill
your lungs
with me,
and if we
do that
       sure
the sun
will still shine down
on us,
but maybe
it won’t hurt
as much
as it normally
does.

Would you mind
if I wrapped
my silence
around you
like a ribbon?

I think it’d look
really pretty
on you.

I’ll wrap
my silence
around you
like a ribbon
and I’ll tie it
nice and tight
so it won’t fall off,
and if you like it,
       and if you wear it,
               and if you don’t take it off,
nothing
will have to be said
and everything
will be understood,
and when
you feel understood
everything feels right
even if
everything is wrong,
and all
anyone really wants
is to be understood.
We’re all
just math problems
that want to be
understood
so we can be
solved
so this way
we can be completed
and feel whole.

And most importantly,
       when the train arrives
at Grand Central,
would you mind
untangling yourself
from my frayed
existence
and leaving me here
alone
and never seeing me
again?

And as
you walk away
would you mind
making sure
not to look back
too?

Would you mind
not looking back
so that I’m
so overcome
with grief
that I’ll wanna douse
my entire body
in yellow paint
and lay down
in the middle
of the street
and be a human
speed bump?

Would you mind
making me feel
so lonely
that I wanna die?

I don’t feel
lonely
ever.
       Not even
a little bit,
and if you don’t feel
lonely
ever,
       not even
a little bit,
I’m pretty sure
that means
you’re not
real,
and I really
wanna be
real.

I wanna really
be real.

I wanna really, really, really
wanna
zigazig
       ahhhhh…
so slam my body down
and wind it
all around.

Would you mind
doing that
for me?

Would you mind
slamming my body down
and winding it
all around?

I know
it’s a lot to ask,
       but at the same time,
it’s really not.

It’s really not
at all.”

I wished
I had the courage
to sit down next to her
and say
all those things
but I didn’t,
so instead
I just sat there
and dusted
the corn muffin crumbs
off my crotch
and then the train arrived
at Grand Central
and she got up
and left
and disappeared
into the crowd,
and I didn’t know
       what to do with myself
so I went
to Zaro’s Bakery
and I bought myself
another corn muffin,
and buying myself
another corn muffin
made me happy
again.

It made me happy
again
because the corn muffin
was tasty
and it made me happy
again
because it was just nice
to be in good
company
again
too.

Then I walked
out of Grand Central
and went
on my way,
content
and relieved
to be knowing
that for the next
3 or 4 minutes
the sun
wasn’t going to
hurt as much
as it normally
did.

       …You know what?

I bet she
had
just gone
snorkeling.

One Comment »

  • what's up says:

    My Sony dash said it was 68 degrees in Minot, North Dakota yesterday. Technology, and this poem, and a scrolling Marquis– kinda reminds me of a flashlight.

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