Not every poem,

Will glitter and sparkle so –

No matter how much,

You polish or cut away,

Some will be rough and tumble.

It is days like these,
that you must laugh at yourself,
and your misfortune.
Romance and food poisoning:
What more could /this/ woman want?

Ripen on the vine
Sweet grape ready for harvest
A moments pleasure
Without the satisfaction
Your femininity sour.