Tripping On

I chose "postmodern" to describe the type of poem this is because I think "postmodern" is a hilarious term, and by far the most pretentious way to describe your work.

Irritated fingers I have. Irritated because I work them too hard On computer keyboards On guitar string dances And across my own body. Fingers because They are tiny limbs Projecting from my hands. I think it's funny that fingers and toes and dicks are all called "Extremities" Like There's something extreme about Projecting outwards Into this world. My irritated fingers Scream more than my Biceps Or triceps When I do push-ups My irritated fingers Get cold quickly, Don't warm up Until I've forced them upon ivory and jet black Piano keys Or dance them across nylon Guitar strings.

My irritated fingers are fed up

with the way they are used as shoehorns,

and they get pissed because in winter I refuse to clothe them