Contests : Wergle Flomp Free Poetry Contest : Past Winners : 2010 : Corey Ginsberg
MOVE TO MIAMI
Move to Miami get sunburn get laid get robbed get into an accident on 95 while the Hummers squeal and the assholes honk at your VW clown car. Move to Miami and learn to meditate, learn to laugh at the news because crying wastes water, learn a new mantra from used car commercials, learn to wait in line for seventy minutes at the post office, the student loan office, the Auntie Anne's in the rich people mall that you shouldn't be in because the plastic ladies look at you in your thrift store hoodie and canvas sandals while they trip over their plastic boobs as if they know you can't afford a thimble of caviar from the stand in the downstairs lobby. Move to Miami and embrace the sound of rolling Rs in a language you keep telling yourself you'll learn when you have the time and money to take those goddamn night classes as soon as the mortgage disappears magicpoof so when you shop at the grocery store near work you'll know what boniato is and never buy it again. Move to Miami and eat too little then eat too much, wane and wax like a bloated moon hell-bent on exploding before dawn, eat the drama in tapas-size servings, eat the smog, eat the Atlantic one nose full at a time, eat the crust off loaves of Cuban bread, eat a parade of single-serving packets of ketchup and hope moderation comes pre-packaged. Move to Miami and bitch about Hulk Hogan bitch about the dickhead drivers in the parking lot of Wal-Mart whose hood ornaments are bigger than their brains, who hit on you while you're buying tampons and crock pots, bitch about your neighbor's unmowed lawn and half-bald feral cats' midnight fuckfest, bitch about too much rain, not enough rain, bitch about how all bikini bottoms are too small for your bottom. Move to Miami and lose two hubcaps lose your inhibition against losing your inhibitions, lose eighteen socks and three good silver earrings that aren't from Claire's, lose the dog twice and the car keys so often you're pretty sure you've got early-onset Alzheimer's. Move to Miami and believe Florida really isn't as bad as everyone says, that it can't be America's uncircumcised wang, believe you'll one day see a manatee, believe your car's got another 100,000 in it powered by sheer defiance alone, believe that those people on TV who won the lottery may not be robots, believe jeans can and do shrink in the months you don't wear them, believe you will make it here because you're tough—right?—and only the tough or truly twisted have the balls to call Miami home.
This poem won an honorable mention in the 2010 Wergle Flomp humor poetry contest sponsored by Winning Writers. Author Corey Ginsberg received a cash prize of $75.
About Corey Ginsberg
Corey Ginsberg collects useless degrees, tennis shoes and obscure facts about The Beatles. She dislikes poodles and their stupid haircuts, the words "poop" and "gumshoe", and hearing her voice recorded on answering machines. She spends far too much time wishing she was enrolled at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, practicing writing with her left hand, and fantasizing that Paul McCartney will play "Hey Jude" at her imaginary wedding. She is currently looking for a home for her collection of poems, her book of essays, and her novel. But at least she's not homeless. Corey lives with her dachshund in Miami, Florida, in a house the color of Pepto-Bismol. When (if) she grows up, she does not want to be president.