People love to talk about other people
and it’s either crude or annoying.
There’s more to talk about than
her and they and that politician.
It’s better for open conversation
like a gift exchange
and I get that intimacy with
the ones you would never expect…
Yet, even they are unreliable
But we talk about ideas, insights,
or we share new gestures—
new moments to play back
I get it mostly from men—
to the people who talk about people
I’m a poor girl looking to become
or needing to look to become
But I did it.
So the guys now are like a
bottle of empty honey
and it’s probably time
I throw it away.
Instead I scrape at the sides
and leave it upside down,
let it drip slowly to the lid.
The sweetest honey
is at the bottom of a empty bottle.