There is no space in the world
for sympathetic girls. We, who cry
at strangers’ weddings, for the beaten dogs
on television, for all the squished ants
and wilted daisy-chains. We, who spend silly
sleepless nights agonizing over the fate
of those poor starving Africans.

Society closes its doors, tells its children
to finish their math homework and balance
their checkbooks and growupmarrywellhave
2.3 squalling babies of their own

tells us to grow up period, to stop using words
like ‘agonize’ and ‘melancholy’ and
‘I am green and leafy, turn me over
turn me over, turn me over.’