Embrace your inner strange…


Too few poems are written

About plain girls.

Those less mateable

Who must deck themselves

In whatever else is handyโ€ฆ

Girls who must be

Easy to please

Because no one longs

To please them.

Girls who lack anecdotes

About persistent suitors

Girls who sit alone in bars.

Girls who are background, offset,

Audience to the game.

Girls on whom the patina of youth

Gleams through heavy skies for a moment

Before the clouds close over.

Girls who do not bloom, but

Wither into womanhood

Failures at femininity

Girls who await the day when

They too will be

To someone

The most fair.



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