Shoplifting tragedy is a fine art that I have perfected.
Dancing around to the tune of
Someone else’s funeral procession.
To the monkey without its mother, crying,
I wear its tears like a silk blouse,
Now, I have reasons, for being so lonely.
I am not so crazy after all.
Justifications are my diamonds,
Rings, bracelets, and earrings.
Now to a preacher reading Psalms,
Grabbing hold of my ears,
Directing them towards
The daughter, her father lost to cancer.
I now have a new winter coat, of the finest wool.
I was getting pretty cold with myself,
Frostbitten with my own thoughts.