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Fool-Shoot: Written alone on a Saturday night. I waiting for a phonecall from a jerk I was seeing that never called. I wanted to write about how I felt, and there was all this incredible angst and pain, but the second I wrote the few words, I felt like there wasn't anything more to be said.

Look Here, Goddammit: Imagine a somewhat prim older lady, hard up for make money yet also desperate to help people. She means well, but she's annoying. She doesn't want other women making the same mistake she did when she was younger, yet she doesn't want to relate to them either, because desperately wants to be wise.

I don't know where this woman came from. She could be a parody of my own mother, of anybody's mother for that matter.

The inspiration was... I don't know. Get yourself really bored in Florida (not difficult, I assure you), fill up a glass with vodka, stay up until 5 AM, and here comes the Hat Lady.

Common Currency: This poem was written on a rainy Sunday morning in February of 2000. I'd just made cheddar cheese biscuits for breakfast, with andouille sausage, and as I watched my boyfriend scarf down the food, I realized I was pissed off. I didn't feel he was worth my Gourmet magazine recipes. Reasons why follow in the poem.

When I wrote it, I saw it as another piece that I shot out but didn't give much thought to. I didn't think it was a poem because it was all just venting in the journal. But I kept going back to it year after year (well after we broke up), until finally, less than a year ago, I brought it to my New Orleans poetry workshop and read it. I tightened it up a little bit and it was ready to go. It seems to be quite a favorite among women when read live. I find that, considering the end of the poem, somewhat disturbing.