I blame my father,
For carrying me in my arms,
telling me how to walk
And showing me how to love;
It is scary how my set of men
Terrifies me when I talk;
Love is a false situation.

I blame my sister
For playing with me in Indian Afternoons,
Riding carousel
Showing me how not to be Epicurean,
All I found in my friendly mud
Was I;
And none else

I blame my mother
For teaching me ways
How to sing Do Rae MI,
How to do good
Tell me it's a lie,
I am but a Villain for Daffodils.

I expect naught;
I cry in my lobby.