PoetryRepairShop -- Contemporary International Poetry 

she needs it, feels entitled in
a house of white walls where there's not
even a ghost of her Mama sitting in
the blue velvet chair that's

now gone. She wants to become
a cat, rub against your
ankles, get you off guard as she
slithers into a cat burglar

who'll do time in San Quentin,
write sonnets she sells to rich
collectors whose houses she'll break
into when released with with out