Dr. Louis Pasternak Skullstench: Stealth Poet
Poetry Assignment #10: Hyperbole
Guaranteed to Make You Puke
If you ever need
to make yourself sick
the night before
a test
or a family portrait
or dinner with Grandpa
creep downstairs to the kitchen
after bedtime
Discover your mom and dad
k–
k–
ki–
kissing (I can hardly write the word)
against the countertop
run upstairs
gargle
but the taste of disgust remains
rinse your eyes
but the image is burned into your retinas
and the next morning
you will be weak and clammy and grey
without even pretending
Miss S – OK, maybe all parents ARE embarrassing. But this is ridiculous.
Your hyperbole is successful, Louis. But the phrase “burned into my retinas” is a cliché. How can you express this thought in a way ONLY YOU can?
OK, here’s something that was not hyperbole. Goldie Granmoti was ruining my life.
At our lockers before recess, she “accidentally” bumped into me.
Then she joined the soccer game. The rule is “Whoever stays, plays.” That means anyone who watches for 5 minutes gets to rotate in.
And then she SCORED on me!
It was bad enough that Miss Sweetmallow liked her poems better.
Goldie wasn’t happy with just that. She wouldn’t be happy until she humiliated me and destroyed my entire life.
2 Responses
Is there a Putrid Poetry Society? I want to join in. I’m sure lots of my poetry is putrid!
I’m really enjoying this series.
No, but we could start one! Thanks, Joy:>)