she said im blue as a robin s egg ive done nothing to make me proud i rehearse conversations in the shower when i am home alone no one has ever bought me flowers or smoked a joint on my persian rug go to mexico and lie under a mango tree and watch a line of crows grace the sudden breeze but you wont know where they go everything just scatters out like acorns in the snow or dust clouds in a drought she said i care too much these days about my place in this ball of yarn theres not a lot that i can boast i water plants and make french toast and muse like some misanthrope afraid to sow all my wild oats read walt whitman poems drink a bottle of champagne and sing some leonard cohen i love it when he speaks so plain the way you often did when i am crying after midnight just between us two it makes me smile to know youre alright