Oh, Georgia.

Oh Georgia, Georgia,
what have you done?
You’re surrounded by men
and only ever liked one of them
and of course it’s the one
you’ll never see again,
because, of course it is.

Oh Georgia, Georgia,
why don’t you just become
a lesbian, and what are you
going to say
to all these men?
They’re waiting.

…Georgia?
Oh, of course.
You’ll say nothing.
You’re a real pill,
do you know that?

4 thoughts on “Oh, Georgia.

  1. Well, I for one love you dialogue. This is reminiscent, to me, of your fast past, sharp and witty conversations of previous poems. I feel like I’m watching a scene play out where a camera is revolving around you and your friend during this frenetic conversation, in a bar with dishes crashing, your both sipping on wine, smoking, nervously, and bustling patron’s all around, while your friend advises you.

    1. That’s a much cooler scenario than me sitting alone in my room and talking to myself, I’ll take it! ❤ Thank you ❤

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