Can't be worried what these people say,
by Anna Chapman
they don't breathe any higher than me.
I can't be worried about these people.
They're the same.
Their pedestals are as man made
as the lakes in their back yards.
And the materials they've chosen
don't run from end to end, either.
They all finish.
the same mysterious brooding
and the same uncertain other
that's lined your insides
since you could feel.
I can't worry about these fools
who are fools like me.
Try to shame me for me
I'll be ready.