Ha ha, this one I'm kinda fucking proud of. I think it's exactly the kind of retarded description poetry people'd enjoy.

I guess I'll lead this with the premise surrounding this thing. I was asked to write a poem in some sort of regular meter and form, since I've been interested in writing a sestina for a while now, I figured I would make this assignment it.

Anyway, I decided I wanted to finish off the remaining alcohol I had in preparation for a weekend off-campus and having Spring Break this upcoming weekend also. So a bunch of people were in my room playing cards, all acquaintances or friends of mine, and there just happened to be six of them besides me. I figured, "What the hell, sestinas are challenging enough, I can't think of anything to write about... why don't I just get a word from each of these six and I'll try to write a poem with those."

So, here it is, aptly titled, "I fucking win."

My buddy Chuck, "Lumpenproletariat,"
As if the use makes him intelligent.
My room-mate suggests simply, "blueberry."
Y'know? Collected in hefty buckets,
Only to be had in a sumptuous
amount? Raffaella says, "capricious!"

instantly, using the same capricious-
like thought that 'lumpenproletariat'
had lacked. Elmira tells me, "sumptuous,
and show me later." She's intelligent
of a sestina's challenge. And buckets?
Rosanne, I'm glad this goes with blueberry

because using these words with blueberry
in the mix eases my first capricious,
drunken decision to work. Thank buckets.
Am I a Lumpenproletariat
man? Lowest class? So unintelligent
I think a degree ensures sumptuous

living conditions later? Sumptuous,
like a remembered, ripe Maine blueberry
I enjoyed years ago. Intelligent,
it is, if you succeed with capricious
decisions. Lumpenproletariat
are not excluded here, though the buckets

they fill, blueberry-carrying buckets,
inspire interest as to the sumptuous
character lumpenproletariat
workers picking the August blueberry
crop possess. I would cherish capricious
decisions they made, the intelligent

stories; as only the intelligent,
woebegone man has--and by the buckets.
Finished vodka; another capricious
thirsty Thursday. Building a sumptuous
memory to savor with blueberry
years amid lumpenproletariat--

yes, lumpenproletariat--buckets
that have intelligent and sumptuous
blueberries of an Evan: capricious.