This Must Be Punk Rock
shoes still on my feet
THIS MUST BE PUNK ROCK
How many times Have I woken up in my clothes Holes in my socks And shoes still on my feet? Think about that image for awhile. Eyeliner smeared Like a wild raccoon Food wrappers and bottles Strewn across the place. This must be punk rock Because I don’t know what else Makes me feel like Monday When it’s Tuesday in the house. The ringing in my ears Burns a chorus to a song Played too loud By a band no one knows. The water is brown When I brush my teeth Tobacco stains and whiskey Go down the drain. A metaphor for life At the age of twenty-four I don’t see no future Knocking at my door. This must be punk rock Because I don’t know what else Makes me feel like Monday When it’s Tuesday in the house. I write my poems In a composition book The secret thoughts Of a suburban refugee. Nobody reads My grim verse I’m a solitary artist And I’m happy that way. The bottle is my girlfriend She won’t let me down She’s there every night When I throw my shit around. © 2026 Stephanie M. Vargo
'This must be punk rock
Because I don’t know what else
Makes me feel like Monday
When it’s Tuesday in the house.' - Excellent.