I was just introduced to a series of books by a good friend of mine. The basic premise of these books is a teenaged girl addicted to meth, but it is all written in poetry. I do not know a lot about poetry, I do, however, enjoy it, and would like to include an excerpt from Glass, by Ellen Hopkins, here.

The Garage Calls

My car is purring like a kitten
and wants to come home.
"So what's the total?"

Fifteen hundred eighty
big ones. Will that be
cash, check, or charge?

Like who's got fifteen
hundred in cash lying
around? "Um, check I guess."

Mom will not be pleased,
even though she promised
she'd take care of it for me.

She's not.That's a lot
of money, Kristina. How
are you going to repay us?

She won't be pleased
about my answer, either.
God, just please, no

lectures! "I put in an
application at the Sev.
I should hear soon."

She tsks her tongue. Who'd
have thought you'd end
up working there?

"It's not the worst thing,
Mom. At least it's close.
I asked for swing shift,

but sometimes they start
you on graveyard."
Grade E's loser shift.

She shakes her head
and I know that means:
What will people think?

------------------------

Now, Glass is not my favourite, and Crank is much, much better.