Pick Up Lines by Schuyler Peck

Painting by Seon-Jeong Kim

Pick Up Lines

“Oh, so you’re a writer? How interesting.” The boy says,
licks his lips, tries to imagine
what his name might look like in my bedroom;
what his love might look like in my handwriting.
I don’t tell him I write poetry.
I want to tell him I write murder mysteries;
that I will write him dripping against the 52nd floor window,
a closed-door murder and all the newspapers know his name—
and this is because
it isn’t what he wants.
He tells me I’d look good on the backseat of his motorcycle,
but better under his hips;
wrapped up so tightly in his sheets
that I’d never leave,
and oh, he can’t wait until I read him my work in the morning,
how it’d go great with the excuse he’ll leave
for never calling back
when I don’t write the right words.

Schuyler Peck

Born of college-ruled notebooks and the smell of lemon grass, Schuyler Peck was raised in New Jersey, but she’ll never tell you that. Instead, she’ll tell you there are pieces of her everywhere; planted in trees and shipped off to the moon. Her poetry, however, can be found in Words Dance publications, Literary Sexts V. 2, JuxtaProse Magazine, and schuylerpeck.tumblr.com.