She said she thought, perhaps, that he
was much too much like me for us
to ever find a comfort zone
and that the fates had written thus--
"This is now, decreed."

So I've been thinking to myself
and now I'm thinking thoughts in verse--
she's in love (oy, what a curse!)
with a boy of personality
similar to me?



A menopausal-PTS'd,
borderline with GAD
agoraphobically maligned,
with phantom pains of ovaries
which do not exist no mo!
(Unless of course, they're in a lab
undergoing scrutiny
by some bored biotech
who wonders what became of me..)



And yet she is in love with him,
and cannot stand the sight of me.
So I suggested surgery--
if such comparison be true.
He'd need to volunteer to be
castrated, just like me.

?

Then perhaps, some middle ground
the bubble in the level, found,
if a triple level be,
one that could accomodate
me and him and her and he
might find that he no longer needs
to show off his nipple rings
by taking off his shirt
and posturing
in the light of evening...

I think that thought appeals to me--
I'd like to see him tottering
on my bunions and bad knees
banging on the bathroom door in sweat
at four, at five, at six a.m.--
an exercize in sphincter-fret
pleading for some mercy, please.

Damn, he must be some sexyyyyyyyyy.

No wonder she's in love.