07/20/2025
(An Ode to Romantic Trainwrecks)
“Clocks, Kiss Cams & Catastrophes”
By David Franklin
At a Coldplay show — that pastel parade,
Chris Martin sang like heartbreak on parade.
But love backstage was a dumpster fire,
A Kristin-fueled mess of cringe and desire.
Kristin Cabot — hot mess in disguise,
Thought flirting meant manic blinking and wild eyes.
She stalked poor Andy Byron with a thirst so loud,
She made restraining orders seem almost proud.
Andy, bless him, a human beige sweater,
Thought dating Kristin “might make things better.”
But like Coldplay’s last album — bland and half-baked,
Their chemistry fizzled… like a smile that’s fake.
Enter Megan Kerrigan, queen of sly smirks,
With a heart of stone — and a Rolodex of jerks.
She didn’t love Andy — just hated Kristin’s face,
So she tongue-tied him on the spot… for the chase.
The Kiss Cam swooped in — fate’s cruelest device,
Landing dead on Kristin, who panicked (not nice).
She leaned for Andy — but Megan cut in,
Planted a kiss on his lips… like a victory sin.
Kristin froze like a deer with no clue,
Mouthed “Oh my God” — like a meme come true.
She kissed her own hand, waved with a twitch,
While Megan smirked, “Bye, you thirsty bitch.”
Chris Martin saw it all — mid-“Viva La Vida” refrain,
Muttered, “Bloody hell, what a soap opera of pain.”
Even Coldplay’s breakup songs weren’t this sad,
Three fools in a spiral… all looking bad.
Andy? Forever the footnote of the scene,
Kristin? The cautionary tale of what “extra” can mean.
Megan? A petty queen, savage and slick,
And Chris? Still singing… for the emotionally sick.
A clown car of heartbreak, all caught on cam,
Proof that love, like Coldplay, is one big sham
So here’s to the foursome — a rom-com from hell,
Kristin the Clinger, Andy the Shell,
Megan the Snake, Chris the Snooze,
A Kiss Cam caught them… all destined to lose.
They say Coldplay brings people together with song,
But this mess? Proof that Coldplay makes everything wrong.
So here’s to Kristin — queen of try-hard and cringe,
Andy Byron — human wallpaper, no spine, no hinge.
Megan Kerrigan — petty with venomous flair,
And Chris Martin — soundtrack to this awkward affair.