Tin can cut me
The clock struck me
My lunch went off
Without saying goodbye
Needless to say
I’m having a bad day
Think I’ll go and get legless
With my chair.

In bed, broken
on a sunny afternoon
my hand stretched out
marble white, as if
to take a token.

All alone, now
out of sight
falling to
thirty-two degrees fahrenheit,
while idle spirits
and window light
dance about the room.

The other day
I had a date
who made me want to nauseate:

Oh Ben,
this rhyme is just for you
because I saw through
your petty tactics-
which I broke like matchsticks.
Though you tried to be charming
I found you alarming
for I’m not a thing you can fling
along your dirty old string.

I know you think
you’ve got it all
but you’re about as sexy
as a common pub crawl;
and darling, I’m sparkling
like a vintage champagne
so I won’t let a drop of it
go down the drain.