May I present to you: A poem I wrote in 8th grade

USUALLY, when I go for a long(ish) period without posting anything, it means that I've been filling up my drafts folder with overly-serious, half-finished, self-involved philosophizing that I can't bring myself to publish (which should be a scary thought considering the types of things I actually do often publish...I really do have a difficult time getting over myself).

The last couple of weeks have been no exception. SO INSTEAD of posting drivel, today I'm sharing a poem I wrote when I was in middle school about my pet iguana.

He was named Clark, after Dean Cain in Lois & Clark. Because I was cool like that.

My Pet

Not my iguana.

I have an iguana as my pet;
loving, he is not.
He only lays on his climbing branch,
and eats and drinks a lot.

Every week I take the time
to chop up squash and greens,
and he eats it all in a hurry,
or so that’s what it seems.

Then there’s the tiring fact that
every other day,
it’s bath night for the iguana,
and it’s time to clean out the cage.

Not that my adoring pet
has much thanks for me.
Whenever I try to pick him up,
he tries to bite me.

And he lashes with his tail
till I’ve got welts across my hand.
There’s some things about my pet
I simply cannot stand.

But it’s very fun to watch him
swim around while getting clean.
At times like these I seem to forget
that he can be so mean.

But all in all he’s fun to have,
I’d never trade him in…
until he grows 6 feet long;
but I’ve got time till then!