I’ve been working on some poems that all have to do about being a single woman in her late 20s. The idea is that they could all be published into a book titled: Poetry for the Single Gal. It isn’t pity me type of poetry, so don’t worry. It is meant to be funny.
Bowl of Melon
On my lap, a bowl of cantaloupe and honeydew
Gone soft, the juices marinating for days.
Will be rotten if I don’t eat it soon.
So, here I sit watching A Lot Like Love
At eleven pm on a Wednesday night
With a bowl of melon on my lap
Slowly choosing the firmest of all the soft pieces
That will eventually be thrown away
Because who can eat an entire
Bowl of melon by themselves?
