Life is made for a thirteen-year old girl.
All that is strange and entertains us in this world
Is made for her, from the carefully painted toes
To the old, comedy television shows
Produced by fashionable drunks and their wives
Who make adult situations out of the situations in their lives
Which recall an earlier day and an earlier age
When the playful was more important than the sage,
And history, the wreck we carry on our backs
Needs to be forgotten, so every adult can just relax.
No longer attached to mom and dad,
Too much time ahead, too proud to be boring or sad:
Everyone wants, in their hearts, to be thirteen,
No compromise, nothing in-between,
Too young to be nostalgic, too young to be wise,
And old enough that one burning smirk sits like all the world in her eyes.
