Information Desk
We’re standing at the information desk
and asking what is a hollaback girl, asking
why dogs like to stick their heads
out of car windows. We’re young
and running out of options, we’ve already
spent our lunch money on gum.
No one cares if we chew Altoids
or suck on Listerine strips, we talk
too much, ask too many questions,
like how are seedless watermelons grown,
is it true nothing can live in the Dead Sea?
You say the salt that kills fish saves swimmers
and I say the Irish are still debating
the difference between a shamrock
and a clover. We pop our gum,
make statements like: there’s nothing to fear
except clowns themselves, or no one likes
a lazy daisy except a bed of roses.
At the information desk, there are no dumb
questions only dumb people. Or something
like that. Something like most telephone poles
are made from chestnut trees and paper
toilet covers only protect your mind.
