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Poo and What-not (or Jackass in Boston)
by Francine DuBois

she can imagine them here
in harvard yard: johnny jumping
the iron gate in some sort of
intellectual statement, bunny
offering the preppies beef
jerky while wearing hillbilly teeth
and torn overalls, and steve-o
stuffing a telephone booth with poo.

as she sits in an italian restaurant
for the second time today, (it was,
after all, not her place to say no),
she looks into her sausage soup
and silently sends gratitude to god,
like four-year-olds in the mandatory
thanksgiving performance, that
there is no poo or whatnot
in her dinner.

but she can imagine it,
and that always frightens her.

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
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