Maybe I shouldn't stare at girls all the time, but I'm not sure what harm it does...
My gaze doesn't carry the weight of the patriarchy.
There was a woman in a maroon car, license # something four seven four.
Straight brown hair, sharp nose, very proud nose in profile.
Handsome nose, face in repose, thinking or singing along:
Rock Rock Rock n Roll lobster.
Rough right hand on the steering wheel,
rough hand looks like a man's hand.
A rough hand being gentle can be so much softer than a soft hand.
Am I making sense?
I tried to see her left hand,
I was looking for a wedding band,
I tried to picture her with a man,
I couldn't but I never can.
I tried to picture me on the seat beside her.
Then I woke up and the k.d. lang record was skipping on the turntable.