(2014)
I am a consumer Female Twenties I buy Cheap clothes and lattes
My poems are short Written at night In my head I wake at dawn Shake my memory
An idea In my head Falls flat On paper Read it
The more you treat me like a nag The more I become one I’m sorry if I micromanage Your clean clothes Your hot meals
To be a true artist Must they be recluses Crazy mad or sick Or even better dead Show me a healthy artist
To be genius means To not follow the rules You don’t have to I wish to be smart But not self-important
I look away Afraid to see Flicker of nerves In their eye A clench
The human heart ...leaps and jumps ...races and sings ...sighs and groans The treacherous heart can
My heart breaks A little each day For problems I can’t solve For things I can’t change All I can do is pray
The teenage rebels All fall in line Be they hippies Goths, rockers or skaters Moving from one mould
I had it all In my head And then I said Words I do not know which ones
How do I Catch your interest? Once again I know You are bored with me
Does the world need Another book? Another poem? I add one more to the pile To be left alone
A conversation With a true friend Leaves your life richer Maybe with a laugh A smile on your face
It’s not that I’m sad Though I am It’s not that I’m discouraged Though I am It soaks deeper