PenWomanShip

Let’s start a magazine! Get a grant from the NEA
to publish poetry and then abscond

to somewhere tropical and out of reach
of fax machines and telephones. Tahiti!

Roast our bones on beaches in the afternoon
and wake up in the morning to the booming surf.

We’ll feast on breadfruit and banana zingers while
the bright birds caw and twitter in the bougainvillea.

Call me at the office. We must hurry.
It is almost February. We could both do worse.