Every morning when I am making tea,
I wish most fervently,
To become an electric KETTLE.

It most certainly won't  matter to me,
I'll accept it most gracefully,
Be I of ceramic or METAL.

For one moment I'm dancing with glee,
The next sobbing most piteously,
These wretched hormones don't SETTLE.

Once I whistled so daintily,
Now I  breathe so monstrously,
No longer a rose PETAL.

I may boil, then boil most furiously,
Then click off automatically,
Before I sting like NETTLE.

Splutter, bubble, gurgling I be,
Then cool and calm..so peacefully ,
There I ..in fine FETTLE!

I have been the crying drunk in the hotel lobby,
The mosquito bite in the thin white sheets.
I have been the monsoon rain in the tropical heat;
I have been everything you said I could never be.

On the streets of dust I can eat my fill,
No more clouded eyes, no more ash-filled windowsill.
No more patient wait for my timely death,
No more passing glance; no more loneliness.

I will find my place with this foreign tongue,
On the precipice I write my immigrant song.
This culture shock makes me feel alive,
It kick-starts my heart; I finally turned the tide.

I finally made my peace in this call for arms,
In this incessant storm, I could feel the calm.
Could feel it loosen my bones,
That age-old ache, that I kissed on the mouth,
That I tried to replace

With every chemical within my reach,
With every pill or lie
That passed through my teeth.
I have been the crying drunk,
I have been the victim, too long.
I sit still and breathe.
I write my immigrant song.

If I was super,

I would want x-ray vision

To peer past your doubts.

Summer is ending,
But I still feel the warm breeze,
It reminds me of home,
The divine smell of fresh roses,
Even fresh mowed grass,
Reminds me of a better time,
One that can only be had in the summer,
But summer is over,
For another year.

To taste the bittersweet nectar of thy lunar lips.
Lie me hope, sing to me the song of the helix.
Proffer me the chance to breach thy bastion,
encompass thee in my love and compassion.
Sanction me to be that one whispering love stories
in thine ear while bathing in the Aurora Borealis
dazzling and clear.
You and I, a rickety tent and a love nothing less of
heaven sent.
In mine heart thou shalt forever remain.
My panzer maid grant me...the fall of rain.