During my first year of college I dated a girl who lived upstairs from me in the dorms. She inspired some sappy poetry. Here’s something I wrote on September 11, 1991. I still have the original copy, so apparently she gave it back to me at some point or I may have just read it to her and kept it. Either way, I signed my name in big flowing letters at the bottom of the paper so it’s odd that I didn’t give her the physical copy. Who knows?
The One Who Makes Me Smile
Karing Karen kalls my name
kalling softly, I am lame.
I kall out to her soft lips,
take her dancing, dance with dips.
Emotion lacks, but hatred fails
moving across the monorails,
please let it work, don’t make it hurt,
or let her find a guy named Bert.
Does she like me does she not,
will it last or will it rot,
fill it with formaldehyde,
let it last till morning tide.
Karen, have me as your love,
and I will all your pleasure prove,
my deepest love I can devote,
come to Swenson’s for blueberry compote.
I drew your blood, it made you laugh,
please don’t forget to take a bath.
Love me now and love me true,
make your choice, I trust in you!
Take your time, do what you will,
I’ll be sitting on the window sill,
watching as you’re walking by,
hoping to catch your sparkling eye.
Heath Buckmaster 