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andered out; leaving Dan alone。
Thankfully。
Still; maybe there was something to what his dad was saying。 After all; Colm hadn’t said specifically to write a poem。 He’d said to turn in a poem。 And Dan had just been musing that he’d peaked in high school。 He stood up from the bed and padded across the stained carpet to his makeshift desk; made from milk crates and an old door。 Maybe he could find a poem from the past。 It wasn’t like he had much of a choice。
He picked up one folded loose piece of paper on top of a pile of Moleskine notebooks and spiral…bound pads; unfolded it; and began to read。 Blonde ing out of the store/ Whatever you buy; I want you more。 It was one of the first poems he’d ever written; after he’d seen a picture of Serena online; ing out of Barneys。 It was terrible。
He shuffled through more of the papers。 Each poem reminded him of another piece of his past。 He’d been in love with Vanessa; dated Serena; had had a torrid affair with a kinky; yellow…toothed poet named Mystery Craze。 He’d even had a fling with a sensitive gay guy named Greg—if you called Greg trying to kiss him one night after drinking way too much absinthe a fling。 He’d had experiences with almost every type of love there was。 But now; he just felt empty。
Maybe that was his problem。 He’d forgotten what it was like to love and lose and love again。 After all; the poems about Serena were about untapped desire; about ideal love; about a love that could not be consummated。 They were sad and desperate and longing。 They were real poems。
He pulled out one; from when he and Serena had just broken up in the fall of senior year。
Perfect blond celluloid teen queen
Heart of glass; Wyeth…stark Kansas landscape。
Dan grinned。 That wasn’t b