January 10, 2010
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"You don't have to,"
I muttered.
"At least pick a theme."
There it went.
Down, screaming up through
hot sun and thunderheads
and starless,
Lunatic nights.
"Why don't you understand!"
Was her first of many.
"The world's so routine,
I can't hold the chaos!
Why won't you look at me?
Why won't you look at me?!"
If I stared hard enough,
I started to see
The air-quotes around her head,
Like four quarters of a broken halo.
She wishes.
It won't get you friends.
It's certainly not unique.
All it gets you
Is a cage.

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