the redheaded emily

I knew a redhead once who couldn't write poetry

she could use any literary format invented,
or exotic green ink
and still be dull
as a
shamrock

she had a way of talking,
very educated and
smarter than most

but who wants to hear
about trees and birds?

and she never wrote about love

I can see her with a degree in literature.
her shiny paper
and framed
glossy stamp of approval

with this she'll infest our libraries
on a high pay roll

and she'll drive home from work,
well fed,
educated,
and financially free

but I'm sure she must love

so,
maybe

at the
end of the
day

she must fuck the trees
and the
birds too