Lost My Shoe in the Dinosaur Room

Holy smokes, I love my life. Today, a patron at my library told me a joke to "pay me" for all the help I had given him. And it was a corny, but very funny joke. It's all in the way you tell it, is what I say, and he was Telling It. Jokes for information. This is a bartering system I can get behind.

Speaking of things that are all in the way you tell it, the buzz around the library these days is all about poetry. In case you didn't know, it's National Poetry Month. So if you've got some poetry in your soul, you better get that shit out into the world before April 30. Because poetry in May, is like, so ten minutes ago, like Armed and Famous and that talk show with Karen Walker who kept wanting to sing everything. Did anyone else notice that? That girl would sing the phone book if she could. Kind of reminds me of that episode of Northern Exposure where Shelly woke up one day and couldn't stop singing. That was kind of painful too. Maybe I have something against singing? I don't know.

Gosh, I don't know how I get myself into these pop culture tangents. I was talking about POETRY. And, I don't mean to brag (ok, maybe I do a little), but I am known, in my little circle of comrades, as being quite the poet. I have often written poems for people in birthday cards, in emails, just whenever the mood strikes me. So, I had this grand idea to write a poem, in honor of Poetry Month, on this here blog. Except, I'm just not feeling it. That's right, I'm going to go ahead and proclaim that I have impressive poetic talents, and then I am NOT GOING TO PROVE IT. The phrase "put up or shut up" means nothing to me, people. I will neither put up and god knows I will not shut up. Sorry.

However, I will provide you with a poem for your Poetry Month expectations. It comes in the form of a note that I received from a young poet when we were both in the 8th grade. There are two lessons I want you to take away from this. One is that poetry comes out in the most unexpected places. This particular one deals with love, with sex, with death, with the very nature of life itself. From the days of the dinosaurs to the modern day, it is a plea from the poet to make her mark. To be remembered. And two: if you ever write me something on a piece of paper, I will horde it for the rest of my life and possibly share it with others for a good laugh. Be warned.

With that, I give you, Brooke, and her poem, which I like to call "Ha Ha, Remember That."

Hey chickeeeee!

What's going on over there? Not much here. This field trip was totally bogus is what I'm thinkin. Who gives a rip about dinosaur bones? Not me- I only give a rip about RB's bones! Ha ha just kiddin ya hon. I almost lost my shoe in the big dinosaur room! I about died! But I played it off. Oh my god, I totally love that song Be Near Me! Ha ha! Remember that? Do you like LD? I heard he likes Monica now. Don't tell anyone, kay? I would die. Mr. Straw is so funny! He always has to wear those plaid shirts and sneakers. He's "sexy"! Ha ha! Remember that? This bus is shaking my hand so my writing looks scary. Do you think it looks bubbly? April said it did. This is the longest note ever! I'm bored. Write me back, ok? Unless you fall backwards! Ha ha! Remember that? Bye bye tut alu. Or however you spell it.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl