I am a woman, and I’m fifty-six.
My left knee’s gonna hurt until I die.
That new friend wakes me up every day,
But it’s OK, that’s how I know I’m alive.

No more high heels, no cocktails,
Nor dancing with strangers, of course.
Tonight, after tea time, I’m having a little private old-fashioned dance for my spouse.

Which is good, he always hugs me…read more

Woke up in somebody else’s land,
A fucking stranger I am!
My mother’s language’s buried inside me,
So I speak with my eyes and cry with them.

And I walk like a zombie among all these people,
Is it worth the price for this wisdom?
Who am I if I’m nobody?
Is this solitude or is this freedom?

Can a tree replanted far from home ground
Grow…read more

Tree
Transplanted in somebody else’s ground,
I’m trying to spread out my bumpy roots.
But on the highest branches, basking in the sun,
Hang somebody else’s fruits.

And I’m desperately yelling, “Hello, it’s me,”
But my name sounds like the blues, so blue.
With a smile on my face, I’m insanely trying
To fit into Cinderella’s shoe.

Thirsting for a…read more