He told me I was a garden variety neurotic
that I live my life in my head
I guess I was never given
10-10-40 Rose Food, I was not cultured with sunshine
and singing women
my neuroses were not composed of
mathematical equations, theories
on lines and paint splatters in Pollock's paintings
concerns over confusing Manet and Monet
in conversation (as he did)
--but of simple vegetable things
like, one of my breasts is larger than the other
my legs are more than half of my height
I do not know who Manet is, really
I wear glasses
People talk about me
So I guess when I was picked,
he brushed the worms off
rinsed me
cooked me
because who would want a carrot in a vase
in the front room.