Ph.D In Broetry

I’ve reached that age and stage

Where everyone I encounter wants to know

We’re I’ll go

And what I’ll study

I used to say

That I'll be a page

And receive a degree in writing creatively

But life has molded my ambitions like putty

Everything has gone funny

And this might not be Philadelphia but it's always sunny

Because I now want a Ph.D in Broetry

The art of making boys flow to me

By simply stirring up rhymes

Understanding the perfect times

To be authentic and a tease

To bring them to their knees

Roll over and stay

--But Ariel, hey

Boys aren’t dogs

You’re right, they’re actually hogs

Because we’ve established men are pigs a long time ago

But maybe they wouldn't be after my degree

I’d know how to communicate the words of my heart

When to stop and start

Like every conversation was sent through a telegram

And damn

Before my doctorate

I’d need a bachelors in international relations

How lovers from different nations

Sustain their affections through generations

By mixing deliberation and temptation

And maybe I want to be a medical sensation

But I don’t want to go premed in biology or ecology

So I’d get my B.S. in apology

Understand how to proclaim my regret and shame

Restore my name

And the flame of friendship

When what I did wasn’t what I meant

And my tuition would be two cents

Simply to express my distress over a mess of events

But I’d never pay off my debt

Because I’d only ever get a penny for my thoughts

And my college party shots will be

The augmented dots of impressionist paintings

My priority would be joining a sorority

Called Alpha Delta Why

Why do I feel compelled to swell myself with others by my side?

And I’d get a free ride

Inside the trails across my professors hearts

Afterwards I’d earn my bachelors of farts

Because I’d spend too much of myself thrusting darts

At targets that are too sweet

And the only thing the dining hall serves is tarts

I sound contrived and confused

Scattered and sent

Because I don’t know where my aspirations went

I’ve spent so much time staring at the same dream

That I’m not sure if it’s mine any more

When I grasp the knob of this open door

I’ve entered an era of terror

Do I tear her to pieces

Because all I know is how to put my world back together again

I can’t extend myself into the realm of creation

Because I am ordinary

I am ordinary

I am extra ordinary

I am extraordinary

I’d tell the kitchen staff that I was lactose intolerant because I’ve never had dairy

No, that's a typo

I meant a diary

Because I never believed that anyone would glimpse back and admire me

Or that anyone would even hire me

I’ve already had these starving poet business cards made out and all

I’ve chosen a spot for my box by some rock by the mall

And I can’t do anything but stall my own success

Because how do you address

That you possess a destiny you never even thought to pine over

So all I’ve done is whine over

How I can’t pick a fate

And that it’d be great

For me

If I got a Ph.D in Broetry

Because that seems less unknown to me

That my new unreal reality.