Now the Title of this Poem Must Be Amazing

Shayana Foroutan

It’s just dreadful, the first day of a new poetry class,

but nothing is quite like Advanced Poetry, and "You’ve all done this before, I’m sure."

This morning I wore my most boring outfit,

and regretted it the minute I walked in.

I wonder if they’ll allow time for a disclaimer:

I promise you all, I’m cool.

These platform Uggs feel like potatoes

wrapped neatly around clown feet and of course, just of course, 

the girl with the cooler nose ring has Uggs that one-up mine.

A deep brown suede, snow clinging to the bottoms,

a monkey decal on the front.

Paul Frank. Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?

Why’d my professor make me answer icebreakers first?

Why couldn’t he let me think this through?

I swear I could’ve blown them all away.

But I choke and think about shoes.

I look from mine to hers,

potatoes to monkeys.

Damn, I wish I had thought of that first.

I worry all my life I will be this:

a brief glance, potatoes to monkeys, and

Damn, I wish I had thought of that first.