They must have been calling me
because I am beautiful
a phoned in giggle by surprise
with certain shyness implied
only school girls
can be so sure of nothing

I think they’re kidding
when they ask for “Jenny”
like this is a game
this is what it’s like
to laugh out loud
No beautiful,
she’s a little tied up
right now…
twisting with the silence
in a second that takes
forever

this is what the flavor of pain
tastes like
That’s not funny!
Where is she?!
There is no more poetry
to tell
only truth
will hurt now
Baby, I don’t know
who this Jenny is…
tell me though, is she beautiful?

they keep calling
one by one

not one has ever seen
a laugh on the worn down face
of a super-hero
you know…
the ones who don’t
save the day
wear black underwear costumes
not red

not one has ever opened up
to taste the favor
of cold hard steel
off the barrel of poety’s gun
loaded silver tipped passion bullets
with a certain sparkle
right before
you pull the trigger

Baby, if you’ve got nothing to say,
you definitely dialed the wrong number…