7:42 am Ode to the Sad Skinny Gals Who Hang Out at My Starbucks

(I never share my stupid poems, but what the heck.)

I'm deconstructing an organic blueberry oat bar
Crumb by crumb
Hurray for gluten!
Each day there’s a new one of you in line
Your arms folded
Your pouty mouths covered in lip gloss
Sulky 'Pink Meringue'
All you say is, “Tall drip"
You wear plastic clips in your hair
But it’s still partially in your face
When you go to sit down, you slouch
I slouch because of my DD’s
What’s your excuse?
Maybe it’s the chairs
They DO encourage slouching
You all wear the same low-rise jeans
Not quite black, not quite blue
Denim oil slick
Paired with the same fashionably faded, tattered sweatshirts
Ranging in color from sage to slate to camel
What’s that you’re listening to on your ipod?
Bright Eyes?
Interpol?
Or are you more folky?
Oh, I get it. Ryan Adams.
You take out a journal with a pink skull stitched on the cover
You probably made it yourself
“Hand crafted” is the new black
So...
Why are you so sad?
Your bag matches your shoes
You don’t have cellulite
You have clear pores
You buy a cup of coffee that costs $1.55 every day
You can’t be sweating it that much
I think one of these days
I’m going to say “hi,” to you
All of you
It’ll be a pleasant greeting
Delivered in an ebullient manner
I wonder what will happen
I wonder
Will you say “hey,” or “hello”?
Or will you just look at me like I’m hideous
Like something the grave rejected in disgust
I hope you nod your head and smile
Because if a girl like me
Who doesn’t have an ipod
Or a pretty nose
Or a cute butt
Can find a reason to grin
Before 8 in the morning
Than I challenge you to, too.