in Savannah
where every pretty tree fans you
gently
but "keep out"
new statues crop up between old plaques
but you can't rewrite a bad book
I can't move this history block
like trying to talk to a bad dog
I can only stay calm in a bar covered in abraham lincoln napkins
I just wasn't raised to appreciate yelling
assembling a lamp
I do see how
quiet men are attractive but not for me
I stay still and no one congratulates me
Christmas is kind of nasty
like chocolate-covered marshmallows
stale but you neeeeeeed chocolate
my sloppy clothing could be from being young or old
through a round window hole
i'm like a dedicated sailor
slipping off into dreams
about cold beer on a smooth night
but instead I'm in my first pair of high heels
on cobblestones and it just isn't working
so I throw them down the chute and
watch as they bounce off the disco ball
and break a dancer's glass, starting a fight
and I slip around a silver corner