hungry and swallowing a man's eye

i sat indignantly on the crossroads

hoping some act of violence would

shake me from peddling idle lunacy;

life jeers at me through its bifocals

when i play like a child and say that

i've been hoping to hit rock bottom

so that i know when to get back up;

but what does the bird wish to gain

when it sees the plight of the worm?

this half-daughter of opportunity &

crises fleshed out by crocodile tears

knows she deserves no sympathies.