takes off her heart and
displays it as if it were a float
in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day
Parade. The world’s her stage. She’s

their pawn. Only allowed to move
one square along she only goes as far
as her backyard. The only thing she
has on is a lipstick smile of rouge. Most

of those high-hat conservative liberals see
her as nothing more than crude. But if you
don’t have the brains and aren’t a scholar
you need something to sustain you because

the loneliness and pain are
wearing a rut in the center of your
core. And those wanton men of Dutch accent
are begging you for more.