I'm a highly paid professional,
simulating collisions of space junk with
I can make yogurt from warm milk,
and turn bland mushy oats into
the crunchiest, most perfectly sweet
All these things keep men close to me.
They gaze into my eyes wondering
what other talents I have up my sleeves
besides writing poetry with my eyes
closed, and serenading them with
the Car Horn Sonate.
Yes, I am a highly paid professional
who sips decaf cappuccino's at
Alfalfa's, only to stare wide-eyed
at the ceiling all night long.