I could hide five
inside my chest cavity.
I could cram two
in the valves of my heart.
I'm no more me than you.
I'm no more green than blue.
We should hide behind our pen names
since the master's gone for good.
Walking wounded to the rear
of this medicated nation.
Catholic girls in pleated plaid
can grind the guilt away.
Don't look at me in that tone of voice
turning lesbians straight
and the opposite, too
pissing out fires and backpedaled mantras
while the welterweight champion
draws blood in her room.
Currently reading:
"Rabbit, Run" by John Updike.
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