Balcony
by Heather A McMacken
[ poetry - january 08 ]
To accommodate summer I roll
pant legs - now you slide
open my screen, step outside:
smack your mouth to mine
then return skipping
to websites taunting
30 grand jobs though
you are genius above "Technical Writer,"
above "Management Trainee."
Deserving of millions, baby!
Find the check for
poems read to Philistines in
cloudy bars (in between
wannabe guitarists)
and at spotless Grosse Pointe
galleries (after
"talented" slam artists).
