Flip by Leah Dunn

Hip Hip Hip Hooray.
Barbeque. Memorial day.
We drove in our matchbox car
to your house by Eleanor Park.

Dad thought beer was fine.
Mom brought a bottle of wine.
Wondering how long we’ll stay.
Preparing not to say

Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
Out of my face.

Doorbell. We’re in your living room.
One yell. We’re taking off our shoes
You can slap my hand away from my mouth.
I bit my nails to freak you out.

I caught you staring at my jeans.
I know I was thinner when I was sixteen.
Oh sure I’ll clear your plate,
as long as you comment on what I ate.

Then you can
Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
Out of my face.

And you still think that I’m a cynical bitch.
You might have a point. Get to it.
“Young lady, learn to use your words.”
Fuck you. Is that clear enough sir?

You can
Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
Flip you burger and get out of my
out of my out of my
Out of my face

Nobody wants to laugh at your jokes,
but me and my mom will make fun of you on the car ride home.

• Alternative
• Rock
• indie folk
• indie pop
• indie punk
• indie rock
• Belmont