Everyday, the poet leaves me a little more.
I try to wrap my legs around her
but she gives me the cold shoulder.
So everyday, I become less poet and
more woman. Everyday I shrink more.

a mushroom cooking in a pan I am.
This country is doing what everyone says it does.
I am trying not to care.
but it seems I don\"t try enough.
So I pop a pill to make up
for my lack of effort. If i take one,
before the other one wears off-
its gives the pain no chance to come forth.
to claim my attention. 

I am sitting next to a sleepy men in a train.
He is white with age but i
swear i can\'t even tell which
one of us has been on earth longer.