My first poem at Columbia Summer Program. That’s why the lines are a tad sleep-deprived, sappy… aw shucks.
I do not like strawberries.
They are red and beautiful.
I like apples.
They are red but not red but green and have holes.
I do not like debating.
It is like riding a shooting star.
I like writing.
It is like sweeping brown leaves, and the smell of roasted chestnuts.
I do not like perfection.
It is like a glass ice-cream.
I like life.
It is like a beautiful house full of cockroaches.