My mom found a notebook that I used when I went to a writers’ camp at UVa back in 1985 or so. I was 14. And clearly unhappy: “I want to go home. Only 4 more days left!” Hmmm.
The writing is just absolutely atrocious, including this bizarro poem:
A Day at Kroger’s
My eye caught a jar of pig’s tongue
And Alex the Kroger Man noted with cynicism
That the tongue over pastrami would enhance
Your taste buds like Crispy Cereal Snacks. I
Hunted for the suggested cereal but found Mr. Bubble
The bath salts that leave one feeling sagordantly.
Still hunting for the cereal, I found these incredible
Pickles among the Kroger Graffiti Candy.
Forever hunting, a man from Zen Folks’
Circular Church asked me for a donation.
“Listen,” I said, “This place is Kroger’s. It’s
no place to ask for moo-la.” He left & Mrs. Terwilliger
The crazy woman from the Toy Shop approached
and offered me a peppermint candy.
I hate peppermint, but politeness forced me
To accept with charrin.
Sagordantly? What? Charrin? What what?
There’s much, much more. All of it rotten!