A poem a day in April from Rutgers English PhD students and friends.

Thursday, April 11, 2013


I had a penpal once. Her name was Stephanie

and it was Stephanie. There is no such thing as too many

Stephanies, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

To be safe, just don't believe anyone.

When they tell you anything at all.

I'd rather die than go to the meeting so I guess

I'll die. Like all the love in the world could save me.

Stephanie and I have too much stuff in our heads.

My stomach moves like Mike Seaver's waterbed.

Ugh time. Ugh stop moving. Just stay still.

Sometimes I spend hour after hour in the bathroom

applying layer after layer of lipstick.

Singing sad love songs, perfectly in tune. 

I'm all, you can't make me.  And really, you can't.

My hair doesn’t move in the breeze.

My computer screen doesn’t glow like the moon.


  1. YAY MARISA! thanks for joining in!! hooray for Stephanies/ewww Mike Seaver's waterbed in one's stomach.

  2. I totally forgot about Mike Seaver's waterbed it is breaking my heart! I also have a poem that includes the excessive application of lipstick -- one of the songs for girls in their 20s -- I think "Palmyra"

  3. When I read the line about layer after layer of lipstick I had a really strong feeling of recognition followed by a weird terror that I will never do that again! like that that is a gesture of indolence and image-making and resistance that belongs entirely to indolent girlhood and that you can't make anymore once you have kids. I've been having a lot of feelings about this so maybe I should write a poem about it, esp. since I'm a poem behind today!