beauty in the room
by Francine DuBois
"and she moves in it like the night, i suppose." she rolls
her eyes. this is why she stopped dating "poets," you know,
the ones who insist on rhyming every line all the time with a skill
so fine as they wine and dine her, oh so divine!
Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
she is not happy and she just can't decide which dead white guy to blame.
while he is pawing at her breasts, she decides tennyson is to blame.
she is still not happy.
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