She's over there hoeing and raking and grubbing her lawn,
And I'm here in mine,
Grubbin this song half ta death.
We 're both tryin ta make something beautiful grow
Right out in the flower beds beside our front doors.

And if she wears pants, I wear a dress.
She's wearing coveralls today,
And I'm like this: a long skirt and boots,
A delicate hat that blows like petals in the breeze.
She and I are always two sides
Of the very same coin.

Her dad died and mine"s alive.
The estate is settled now
And she uses hers to take care of herself,
And I'm a bum,
But I'm free to roam,
And the world takes care of me.

-jenn

I got nothing.

When we all come in
To report our dealins for de week
And gadsby's bloated like a
Two beaked pelican
About all the sales he made in his mind,
And Junior, talkin out his behind,
His lips jutted out, shoulders shrugged,
His palms out open, like the day he was mugged,
He claims he's got victims too.
The fish are all bitin on the worms he threw,
And the sales manager,
He's got you now,
And
I've
Got
Nothin.



Vinnie is tellin some tall tales
About his success with some big fat whales.
You'd think he's from Texas
The way he spews,
And even Block, who can barely talk,
Manages to sputter about his capers,
Full deposits and 5% papers,
And then the sales manager comes to me,
And I put my hands down on both my knees
And stare right through his hollow eyes.
He's got to realize.
He's got you,
And
I've
Got
Nothin.

-jenn

I sleep on my belly.
I burrow in and pull the covers up.
Peace comes on me,
And I can rest,
Contemplate anything,
Even death.

And Ive come to think that when I die,
I'd like to be buried like I sleep,
On my belly, face down,
So the world can kiss my ass goodbye.

-jenn

I leave the crumpled receipt on the floor.
Something the cats drug up
From out of the waste paper basket,
I can't bring myself to throw it away again.
Maybe I leave it because the cats like it
And have made a toy out of it.
Maybe I identify with it.

Maybe I hope that when I wash up
On some strange shore in the afterlife,
That even some stranger cat might find me interesting
Or useful,
Pick me out of the trash,
And when it's done with me,
And I'm lying there forsook,
That maybe the Great Janitor of the cosmos
Will just let me be
And give this two-time loser
A third second chance.

-jenn

I throw my ideas away like clutter from my countertop.
Finally disgusted and in a rage,
It all goes in the garbage pail,
The good, along with the bad.
Why do other people pile their things
Up on top of mine?
Why does everything mingle and become ruined
Like apples still in a grocery bag?
I had my things here in an orderly fashion,
And now chaos has happened.

It doesn't help me to understand
The 2nd law of thermodynamics right now,

Not when all I want is a little time
To plant my ideas and see if they could grow into dreams.

-jenn

I'm just a cat toy whose string has broken.
Now I lie here on the floor.
I can't do anything anymore.

I thought it would be fun,
That I could run,
And would be free forevermore.
But now I
Lie here on the floor
Ruined.
I can't do anything anymore.

-jenn

Fear is a thing you bat around, yourself,
Like a cat playing with a pencil,
And the minute you quit propelling your fear to go,
It will lie harmless like any inanimate object.

Fear can lie dormant there on the floor for centuries,
Until some fool comes along and picks it up again,
Draws some two-dimensional thing with it
On a single piece of paper,
Then, Viola!
The entire world is terrified again.

-jenn