Don't pretend you didn't write poetry in your early 20s. We know you did. It was pretentious and full of weird angsty sex similes. Don't lie. Like other mortals, Girls creator Lena Dunham is not immune to the power of the undergraduate 'cut my life into pieces / this is my last resort' school of self-expression. Now — like so many other parts of her private life, it's on the internet for all to see. Found on an online zine called Melancholia's Tremulous Dreadlocks (seriously), the poem's called 'Take Two' and our girl Lena wrote it while studying at Oberlin College and repping some blonde hair and ear accessories that look like shower rings.
The boy and girl drink lemonade by her
depressed aunt’s pool and his penis pops out
of his shorts, a cocktail frank resting fatly
on the lawn-chair. Later, she takes her shirt off
while they bike, lets her nakedness blow,
a normalizing wind. He rides ahead to wait behind
the "Welcome to Town" sign. She swerves into a car.
A concerned twenty-something jumps from the front seat,
asks the sexless child at his feet where she is from.
Squatting above the toilet, poised to pee,
but am stopped by the sight of them
out the open window, spreading their skins
on the tar-paper roof. His boxers, the faded stripe
of mattress ticking, legs knobbed, slick
and furry like my father's look in pictures
from before I was born. And the girlfriend—
a thick scar zips its way down her stomach.
Her nipples puff like cookies in the lower oven.