rotten strawberries

 
I murdered the rust growing on my brain
it was parked at a green light
running from the cops at top speed going nowhere

a beer run gone bad
I heard on the loudspeaker hands up
raised um quick got caught holding a loaf of bread

freed green peace beatniks
protesting my womanhood
said something just didn't jive
ladylike manners never had any

tie-dyed emotions spoke against me
the judge said my hair was out of order
all the while menopause threatened to rat me out
as being older than twenty

life on the run can age you
I ran from a toaster who was giving me lip
he and my quick-triggered rage caught up quick

now I'm doing twenty without
in a madhouse full of poets
writing out my thoughts on toilet paper
with ink that smells of strawberries