There’s a calm that descends when one truly communes with the world around them, a sense of knowing, of connectedness, of beauty and sorrow. Where you are is a beautiful place if only because you are there, filling your lungs, a collection of cells dividing, in a universe full of wonder. You are a magnificent, complex organism, and you are astride a Seashark or a behind the wheel of a Clown Van, carrying a Molotov cocktail and a sawed-off shotgun. Anyway, a guy covertly took notes of all the things his roommate muttered to herself whilst playing Grand Theft Auto, added some artwork, and turned them into a set of Instagram-ready poems in the style of Rupi Kaur.
Please, please click through to look at these deeply personal reflections in more detail. If you want highlights, you’re in luck, because this Twitter thread clearly struck a chord in many a gentle soul. That’s the way of poetry—it finds its way inside you and flickers, a small ember that never, never leaves you.
For example:
Or this nugget of truth:
This one seems to have brought one reader to tears of joy:
As for how accurate a tribute to Kaur this might be, let’s pay a visit to her Instagram feed. For those unfamiliar with the work of the young Punjabi-Canadian poet, it’s often something like this:
Kaur’s poetry clearly resonates with many, given her astonishing success; these GTA verses may not sell millions of copies, but they’re probably still worth putting into chapbook form and sending to a small press.
Send Great Job, Internet tips to gji@theonion.com
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