andered out； leaving Dan alone。
Thankfully。
Still； maybe there was something to what his dad was saying。 After all； Colm hadn’t said specifically to write a poem。 He’d said to turn in a poem。 And Dan had just been musing that he’d peaked in high school。 He stood up from the bed and padded across the stained carpet to his makeshift desk； made from milk crates and an old door。 Maybe he could find a poem from the past。 It wasn’t like he had much of a choice。
He picked up one folded loose piece of paper on top of a pile of Moleskine notebooks and spiral…bound pads； unfolded it； and began to read。 Blonde ing out of the store/ Whatever you buy； I want you more。 It was one of the first poems he’d ever written； after he’d seen a picture of Serena online； ing out of Barneys。 It was terrible。
He shuffled through more of the papers。 Each poem reminded him of another piece of his past。 He’d been in love with Vanessa； dated Serena； had had a torrid affair with a kinky； yellow…toothed poet named Mystery Craze。 He’d even had a fling with a sensitive gay guy named Greg—if you called Greg trying to kiss him one night after drinking way too much absinthe a fling。 He’d had experiences with almost every type of love there was。 But now； he just felt empty。
Maybe that was his problem。 He’d forgotten what it was like to love and lose and love again。 After all； the poems about Serena were about untapped desire； about ideal love； about a love that could not be consummated。 They were sad and desperate and longing。 They were real poems。
He pulled out one； from when he and Serena had just broken up in the fall of senior year。
Perfect blond celluloid teen queen
Heart of glass； Wyeth…stark Kansas landscape。
Dan grinned。 That wasn’t b