here you are

the thing about your brand new car
is that this is still a goddam traffic jam
and though you may be the Queen of some fair and far away cul-de-sac
no one here sees you in their mirror
no one here shares your hurt, this is
not a cable series based on the lives of real first world women in war-on-terror peril
here you are a tracking cookie profile
here you are triangulated but invisible
here they know your deodorant and your
decades by colours, by heart the
way you learned a poem as a little girl and it
protested inside of you ever after
for being but a scrap of something much larger and
impossible to define


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