Thoughts on the Unfairness of Life
With knees as knobby as those on me.
Why, my own mother does not root
For me, at the beach, in my swimming suit.
Women whom I cast my glance on
Beg for me to leave my pants on.
For my knobby situation
Far exceeds my reputation
As a lover.
And they say that they prefer me
As a brother.
These bony orbs 'twixt thigh and toe
Turn the hottest lust to snow.
Their only use is punching holes,
In which I plant my marigolds.
Felicia, These Fish Are Delicious
(Topeka: Dancing Goat Press. 2004)