on my third attempt to understand
the words coming out of your mouth
i gave up, looking for an amtrak ticket south
where feminism is only good as a side of steak

and love doesn't always fit into tight pants
but it will never stop trying
because the alternative is dying slowly
in the comfort of a failed superman cape

i'll bring warm milk to your deathbed
and run my fingers through your hair
pull up an old ikea chair
and laugh about the whole mess of it