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Solipsism || Yvette Johnson

You mommy makes you lunch like you don’t eat lunch
at college. Like you are pallid and living off oyster crackers.
Like beer is an exfoliant. I think it is! It washes your hair
if you bring it from a party and wash it straight away.
This is how women are resourceful. They can smell like
a bar and attract men who like to pay entrance fees. Often,
women do not pay at the door. This is their edge. They can
get themselves drunk and dance together on the floor
with their backs against each other advertising Heineken.
They can wear halters and strapless and their heels
are sensible like loafers. They can get them covered in beer.
It won’t matter. It will be chic to wear your drinking shoes to class.
You learn at your survey class that, in solipsism,
only one’s own mind exists. You can be a solipsist
walking back from The House to your classes
and think no one saw you on your Walk of Shame.
Neither sex nor philosophy get you a job after college.
You could major in sex. And spend all your time
drinking beers, learning the tenets of beer pong.
You can wear thin jersey leggings to class. That will mention
your sex life to other people without having to divulge anything.
Some women wear leggings who are not having sex.
They are making a sexy fashion statement. She wants to look like
a girl who had sex in high school. She has too many ideas
about philosophy that she cannot formulate. She’s rich.
Yvette Johnson‘s poems can be found in Octopus, eleven eleven,
transfr, realPoetik
and other. She is a native Los Angelena.