a poem for today

a poem for today, 9 March 2012
[a syllable sorted sonnet of 12 sentences and its image]
If I told you my secrets you'd never look at me the same again.
I'd like a life-sized pizza.
Come here till I punch you.
But I'm terrible at it.
I’m not interested in work that is polite or work that is "nice."
Take these shackles off of me.
I don’t have a career plan. 
So does this qualify as a break-through.
I am consumed by beauty.
It speaks but doesn't know what it is saying or whether you are listening.
I thank God I was raised Catholic, so sex will always be dirty.
Ditto, I'd rather be bald.

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