her poetry's a song it has no reason
it doesn't know where to go
regular poet routes never did interest her
but what other paths are there she can't imagine
so this is the question that needs an answer
otherwise she will remain silent for another decade or two
and, as she figures it, she has about that much time left
before the grand exit 
she feels a need to step on it
get a move on figure this out
what is it this thing poem is for
where is one to go with it


little seeds with clinging appendages to hook onto overalls and fur
and to float on little wing things like maple spins
jet head down into earth
are supposed to grow something,
carry on you see
but this stuff what does it do, what can it do
it's too nebulous don't you see
pretty is boring, clever is boring
impressing people is boring
changing the world holds some appeal,
maybe that's the key:
change the world.
People used to make fun saying, so
you want to change the world, do you??
No, she'd think, I'd rather work my whole life away you stupid prick
to have a bloody yard and a cock sucking boat.