Antisocial tendencies Amplified by sickness I can people watch Yet I can’t people talk I am lonely
To be a true artist Must they be recluses Crazy mad or sick Or even better dead Show me a healthy artist
My parents always say We’re proud of you I am too I got out of bed I used to get so much done
My sister’s cookies Chocolate chip Got my nephew to Say her name For the first time
No hay nada más sincero Que un regalo Inesperado Una carta Un chocolate
I love to hear poetry read Rather than performed I love to hear each word Appreciated Rather than memorized
Life is good A little luxury A cup of coffee Served with toast Consumed lazily
Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses
Itus and Itis Crashed my party I didn’t invite them! I whisper to my sister They make my skin crawl
I find richness In the mixture In what others disdain Young people lost Between two cultures
Your enthusiasm exhausts me This coke is flat The bubbles disperse Leaving a sticky and sweet Aftertaste
A healthy pancreas Is like a transmission Seamlessly shifting gears In type 2 diabetics Wear and tear
My soft spot My sweet boy I’d do anything for Who convinced me Little boys are the best
A family trait Massage Is our vice No shame Take what
Dime ¿Qué es su lengua materna? Ni inglés Ni español Sus padres no hablan inglés