i've just realized.
the notion that one might capture drunken mondays
with a flash, some plastic.
how conveneint;
every bright eyed memory that you made
among friends and frenemies alike will be remembered
in binary, in technocolor, long after you've lost sight and recollection.
and yet we pose.
leaning, yelling, squatting, redfaced, in ecstatic self-portrait,
mummified?
preserved in perpetuity. oh, the beers we drank
and the sober boys who handed them to us; oh, the catfights,
the tears cast like spears in violence,
torn dresses; broken, mended friendships:
spiders and wolves in sheep's clothing and sundresses.
would that i might see that bitch in an album, her biting smile,
that i might hate her still, in decade-old jealousy.
-Parker
Amazing as always.
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