He. (Laiba's StoryPoem7)

He.

He's sitting in the
Dunkin' Donuts.
All alone.
Frantically,
very frantically
scratching at his paper with his pen.

He looks up,
abruptly, may I add?
Not at me, though,
but at the ceiling,
thinking.

I wonder, oh,
I wonder.
What can he be writing?
What's his name?
Where does he work?

let's make it up.

He's a college professor,
grading his student's work.
He was away the night
and here he is now,
frantic
to get his work done.

Or he’s a college student.

Who forgot to do his

3-page essay

and is doing it now.

Or...
he's like me.
Writing down questions
as quick as they come.
Hoping, just hoping to get 
answers some day.


Journal:

The point behind this poem is to show her life's a mystery. You don't know exactly what's going to come. You don't know exactly what's going to happen. You don't know exactly what every single thing is. Everything's a mystery.

In this poem, I say, “ wonder, oh, I wonder.What can he be writing? What's his name? Where does he work?” not to be creepy but rather because that is what i always think when i see a stranger, for some reason. I also say that because that is what it takes to simply know someone. Not digging deep into them.  Not personally knowing someone just “surface-touching” knowing them, meaning you don’t know that much but enough to say, “i know that person.”

I also say, “let's make it up.” because what do you do when you are me and don’t know anything? Just that. You make things up. Also, because if you are inquisitive about everything, what else can you possibly do?

I then say, “He's a college professor, grading his student's work. He was away the night and here he is now, frantic to get his work done.” because that is one possibility of which he is and is doing. Although it is a very small possibility, it can still be true. In this part of the poem, I let my creativity go wild. I say things that are probably not true at all but I still think about it.

I also say, “Or he’s a college student. Who forgot to do his 3-page essay and is doing it now.” because that is just another crazy idea I come up with in this poem. In reality, I still probably would still think that.

I then proceed to say, “Or… he's like me. Writing down questions as quick as they come. Hoping, just hoping to get answers someday.” because that was just like me in this poem. I wrote down all the questions I have in this poem about the man. Also, sometimes I have so many questions that come so fast that I have to write them all down so I can hope that one day they will be answered. I hope that the questions I have will someday be answered in a way I understand, I agree with, and don’t have any more questions about. So I assume that maybe I’m not the only extremely inquisitive person here. So that I’m not alone in this habit.