American Girl

She digs mass produced things like
children and beef burritos.
Things that can be bought and sold
like souls and stocks and sofas.
She's bartered her sex and her
toaster oven for the people of her
community. Leases her life out
for pennies on the dollar, buys all
things she never needs. She's a
perfect consumer and projector.
An exceptional piece of work
manufactured by her exceptional
fore-mothers. God bless, she says
on ocassion. God bless beef burritos!

I'm Good at This

What response can I give on the
inability to fall in love?
Never a good one, it's always one
that will only pass on basic appearances.

You're the Ben Franklin of love!
If that's what I am, I am.
6 scones and seven T's later
You've found my real aversion.

It's that emotional distance
between the kitchen tiles and
the left-over Lo Mein on the couch
The walk is longer than we think.

Just like I've never finished a
dripping cone---I'm not done
with my pretenses of loving
that boy, that strange one.

You can sit here and discuss
my inability to love or fall in love
What was the question? Whatever
looks best.