I puzzle you.
Because you're from Reality One,
And I'm from Reality Two.
And I've studied your syntax,
And understand you,
But can't bring myself to speak
Back to you
In that tone of voice.
It's considered voybal abyoice
Where I come from,
And we buffaloes that roam
Prefer encouraging woyds.

-jenn

I strut because my joints are filled
Half with gas and half hydraulic fluid.
I limp because I've wrestled with a god.
My headlamps squint because I majored in sunspots
And minored in calligraphy,
And I squeak because my alternator belt's completely off.

I'm running only on my battery.
I've had to shut all my extras down.
I coasted until the radio quit me,
And that's how I found out
That it was the music that had kept me going
All along.

-jenn

I learned a lot from looking over your shoulder in a dream--
"How to open the double secret compartment
Where people comment what they actually think,"
By taking the notebook and turning it over and sideways,
Then flopping it over again from the bottom twice.
Well, it looked classy the way that you did it,
So never mind it didn't work for me,
But while you were reading, I could see
What you actually thought about the actual comments,
And better than that,
I got cookies all over your browser.

-jenn

Are you trying to say
That the stardust I am made from
Wasn't created in the Big Bang
Like yours was?
That you have some cosmic leg up on me?
That my matter can't turn into energy,
Or vice versa,
Because somehow I lie outside the margins of physics?
That I have no right to breathe
Because all the air is your air?
Well I have news for you.
Not only do I put my pants on
One leg at a time just like you,
But I've just put one of my legs right into your pants,
And I'm about to wear them to town
Without any suspenders.

-jenn

I go back to see the place
Where you made love to me.
I can't find it.
I can picture it in my mind
And am desperate to know
Where to go again
So you will love me.
But they've turned it into a dorm,
And young people chat in loud, empty voices there,
And laugh in nervous titters.
And so I go back to my room
And pour the rainwater out of my typewriter,
And start over.

-jenn

I listen carefully to the rain.
There's a rhythm to its fall.
A wave of drops drumming soft
Patters on my rooftop.
And when I close my eyes I see,
The rain is dancing down on me,
Doing an ancient rain dance on my soul.

And with that, my pump is primed,
My hearts pours out with love
In time with its tympani.
My body longs to rise and dance
Along the horizon and sing
The chance lyrics of old
That I can recall.

But mostly I want to turn and bow,
And ask you for this minuet now,
And see
If you will come and dance with me
In the rain?

-jenn

Sometimes I know things.
And I knew
that I was in love with you.
And maybe I thought
Love lived in one corner of the brain
On a nice clean lot,
Self- contained behind a picket fence.
But what I didn't guess
Is that love prowled untamed
In every strand of DNA,
And longed and pined and chewed its leg
and could never be contained.
And I didn't know
That I would want to fuck you so,
That I would be lit with a burning fire
And melt from the inside with the desire
That you spawn in me,
That I would do anything,
Anywhere with you,
And want to engulf you completely inside me,
That I would run free
Like a rabid she-wolf in heat,
Wanting, needing to breed, to merge,
To combine with you,
The primal urge to replicate your DNA too.
I had no clue
That you
Were the one who would evoke
And stoke
And stroke and poke
Such earth mama feelings out of me,
But I discovered your secret identity
As the sexiest earth daddy this world has ever seen.

-jenn