Whatever I Want

Another poem I wrote for my 10th grade English class.

Write a poem, he said.

We asked for a topic.

Whatever you want, he said.

Whatever I want?

What, does that mean I 

could write

anything?

Could I just write random words?

Corn.

Columbus.

Football.

Actually, that's not very poetic. What if I looked at something

and wrote what I saw?

a maroon chair

silver legs

wooden desktop

Nah, that's pretty uninteresting too. I...

Wait! Maybe he meant that I should write about

what I want!

Ah, relief. He did give me a topic.

What I want. Uh...

Chocolate? Bacon? I want my name in lights, 

I know that. I want a microphone,

a guitar,

and an hour in the nearest recording studio.

I want to take a nap.

I want my brothers to stop making noise for

at least a minute.

I want a partnership writing deal with Stephen King.

I'm hungry. I want a cookie.

My hand hurts. I want to stop writing this poem.

Oh, wait.

This is freeform. I control when I stop writing.

In that case, 

I choose to stop--

Author's Note

Again, I wrote this over 3 years ago.