The Stantonian Association of Interesting People: January 2020

What is the Stantonian Association of Interesting People?

My friends, this blog is dedicated to those men and women who go out of their way to be remarkably interesting. In other words, all of those fascinating Stanton students (or, in the rarest of cases, students from other schools) can join this blog to appreciate creative writing developed by us students. I, Braden Beaudreau, the creator of this blog, will post my past, present, and future works on this website, and those who join and comment will get the same opportunities. May all of you live in happiness and peace, and never forget: being interesting is the only way to stand out from the masses.

Thursday, January 30, 2020

Exit Row

If you are sitting in an exit row please identify yourself to your lover to allow for reseating if: You lack the ability to read, speak, give gifts, physically touch, spend quality time, or otherwise understand the love language (or graphic form) or the ability to understand oral lover suggestions in the language specified by the dating app you matched on

I’ve been peeing in your shampoo bottles

Over in the shower corner there

They were empty

And you weren’t moving them

Do you even wash your hair

I thought about peeing in your empty

Bottle of soap

Sitting on the bathtub side

Brushing my teeth with toothpaste

Do you even wash your hands

I thought about peeing on your blades

To sterilize the rust that’s growing

Veins of red growing down the side

Oxidization, entropy and urine

Do you even shave your legs anymore

My grandma bought me a tea mint shampoo

I bought that same shit for you—

—it stung your eyes

Who is using it? Who is using it now?

Do you even wash your hair?

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Trace the curving on the coastline

I am asleep
California is awake
In solstice summer glare
My body aches, brakes
slow descent on curves
Nerves shaking by anger
Unsaid Words

Stop
Take a picture if you need it
I feel so far from my mind
Stop
Get out the car if you feel it
This is killing love in my time

Eight Years

Eight years
is two high schools
Of separation
is two freshmen years
is two sociological virginities
is two suicidal depressive episodes
is two sullen wanderings
lost to the sands of time.

Eight years is time
Between when I loved my brother's sister
When I loved a stranger's parasite
When I loved a my Bible and my God
and all descended into dust
and poetry

Eight years
is less than a decade
It is more time than our atoms;
It is between social construction
And physical reabstraction

Eight years
And I am before her fiance
Who I immediately love and admire

Eight years
And I am cringe with her lover
Who beats against the angst

In
Eight years
where will my soul be?
As far as Boston
is
As DC is from Jax