She uses her own name as a punchline
About a hundred times a day
She keeps money in her socks and
Gum on her soles as "collections"

And she smiles until her eyes squish
And she's fried her hair with bleach
And she leaves riddles on the wrappers
Of my brother's guitar strings
Handwritten like a Shakespearean
Handwriting like a snot-nosed student

And she's got hoops through her nostrils
And crystalline skin
And silver dollar eyes
And she ties her fried hair into knots
And she's twenty one
And she bought us ***** to prove it
And she better not use my little brother
My God, she better not