Sunday, August 12

Funniest thing I didn't read all summer.

If you've ever worked with adolescents, had an adolescent in your home, been an adolescent, and especially if any of the adolescents mentioned here ever, ever, ever went through a "poetry stage," you just have to read this Shouts and Murmurs from the July 23 New Yorker. I'm still catching up with that reading, yeah, but this one had me falling off my chair, which just happens to be in the bathroom, okay too much information.


  1. Yep, that was me all right.

    I hope someday I can find my youth charming and nostalgic and yearn for those days. Don't think it's gonna happen, though.

    I laughed so hard at this--a laugh that encourages me to not take myself so damned serious all the frikkin' time. Hard work for a Scorpio.

  2. Oh, by the way, if you go to you can read one truly horrible poem for free without even having to purchase the book.

    The sad thing is, I have notebooks full of poems and that no one will ever see.

    Maybe someday.


  3. That is hilarious! I love it. I gotta remember to bring a book with me when I ride the bus.

  4. smells like teen angst to me

  5. I heard about this either on a story from our local (WNYC) NPR station or maybe it was even an NPR piece.

    To hear it read aloud was... Well, you can imagine!

  6. Oh god, that's funny. I can remember my cheese ball teen poetry, thinkng I was some esteemed writer.

  7. This reminds me of a funny site I'll share from the perspective of being the mom of four, the oldest of which is 14. All that teen angst just beginning in my life.... Anyway, I live in a kinda rural area where rarely someone'll be running or riding a hose, but the other day there was a whole pack of teenagers, really like 8-10 walking by our driveway like the coyotes that live around here or dogs. Not one was smiling and no one was talking; they were just walking. We stopped for a sec as we were pulling into our driveway to ask my daughter if she wanted to join them. We laughed when she said they looked like they were zombies, collecting teenagers as they walked. I'm not sure I've relayed the out-of-placeness or hilarity of the whole scenario, but suffice it to say... I'm living in a teenagers angst-ridden poem and am the source of all pain in the world.

  8. oh, I know how to spell sight...habit.


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