The Heart Rounds Up the Usual Suspects

I sleep with the cat

when no one will have me.

When I can’t give it away

for love or money—

I telephone the ones

who used to love me.

Or try to lure the leery

into my pretty web.

I’m loony as a June bride.

Cold as a bruja’s tit.

A pathetic bitch.

In short, an ordinary woman.

Grateful to excessiveness.

At the slightest tug of generousness,

I stick to the cyclop who takes me,

lets me pee on the carpet

and keeps me fed.

Have you seen this woman?

I am considered harmless.

Armed and dangerous.

But only to me.