Fauxku, from my life

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What is Wrong With Today
My pants won’t stay up.
My hair is a crown of fuzz.
My eggs are lonely.

Right Now
I am so fertile
I could impregnate myself
With a single sperm.

It’s Not Fun Anymore
Why table for one?
OK, I can be picky.
Still, no one’s offered.

Grumblekins
I start to wonder:
Why is everyone so awkward?
Or is it just me?

Small talk is over
And didn’t go very well.
Can I just kiss you?

Also Grumblkins
I’m filled with longing.
It’s not directed toward God.
I’ll try to shift it?

 This task seems daunting.
And not that interesting.
But it’s in the Book.

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