thursday afternoon i bought the shredder set it proudly within arms reach, tested its teeth on junkmail and bank statements
spent saturday morning turning hundreds of pages of our love into skinny strips of paper
piled them in the middle of the room, danced through them, rolled in them like they were autumn leaves
left them until sunday to clean up.

well, let me tell you about my day
went to the market bought: asparagus, mushrooms, cherries, pain in the choclate, sweet peas smelling of beauty.
waiting to cross the street to catch my bus. a big man, a big round man, a big big round round developmentally disabled gentleman asks for some change. i decline like all the others on the corner but at least i smile. so he stands behind me and declares
you have big tits. big tits. big giant tits. great big tits.
follows me chanting about my great big tits for a block, accompanied by the sniggers of many a passerby.
finally shake him when i turn the corner -- walk toward two very short middle-aged mexican men who take this opportunity to stare at my great big tits while making loud and juicy kissy noises at me.

actually i don't really like this poem but someone else said they liked it and that person is really popular so i must be mistaken and i do in fact like this poem
even though it has daffodils in it and normally i don't like daffodils but she likes them and i like her and everyone else seems to like her at least the people i like like her so i guess this time i will like daffodils too
and i don't care for the subject matter but it seems to be quite fashionable and when he writes about it lots of other people write to him and about him and about his poems so i think maybe it's a poetically worthy topic after all
you know, i really like this poem, it has an air of freshness about it and there's just a hint of controversy -- makes one think. good job.

© 1997 Katrina Craig