What I Do Instead of Homework

It's 11:11
coincidentally
and instead of reading Cantos 3-5 of The Rape of the Lock,
which is really witty and still rings true in contemporary society, which is something I can say in class tomorrow, and is not in the least bit dull like normal homework
or reading 20 pages worth of Emily Dickinson poems
the aformentioned normal homework
I am waxing poetic and looking up boys on Facebook and listening to my ipod on shuffle.
but not really on shuffle because I'm skipping the songs I don't want to listen to right now, which apparently is everything since I just passed over 98 songs

My roommate is asleep.
Typical.

And I'm not stalking these boys,
I just saw them play in a band
they were not bad-looking
and they were good and I wanted to find out more about them.
They have girlfriends.
Typical.

It rained tonight and it was the delicious
summer rain
the kind that smells like worms and muddy soccer fields and smoothes out your skin
that defines my childhood
and transports me through the gate that's supposed to be locked and
down the invisible sandy path
toward the boardwalk and then down the stairs I always stumble on
it's dark out, okay? I just can't ever see where I'm going in the dark and anyway the boards are uneven
and finally to the
water I am.
the rain came from the big lake, after all
It's November 28.

It's 11:11 on November 28
and I'm stuck here in my little box
in the semi-darkness
attempting to conjure up summer nights and a boyfriend via ipod.
typical