Barbara Stafford
They seem perfectly natural,
Highly modernized and globalized,
And all the busy pageantry,
Are the most penetrating of criticisms.
I’m a divorced woman,
Please help me,
I don’t know. It’s a mystery.
He’s not just a regular moron,
You would see all different games,
There’s no time.
And who is contributing what,
An unusual expedient for reducing it,
What is the worst way to die?
I have often had the opportunity,
Because he came from a land,
One that we should embrace,
From Oakland to Sac-Town.
Recycled Poetry 