Someone's Sparrow

I’ve got a jumpy tendency

and a slight, unfounded dislike of horses.

I’ve got a self-proclaimed love of folk punk and socks.

I’ve got a soul that yearns for red wine and cigarettes,

(French, I know)

and a stomach that vehemently protests.

I’ve got a butternut squash on my kitchen counter

and lube on my windowsill.

I’ve got a war-torn cast iron skillet

and a proclivity for old lady pajamas.

I’ve got a needle felt project,

abandoned after the first step.

I’ve got unshaven legs,

a cynical half-prayer to God knows who,

and a boy sweeter than the Portishead

CDs he spins.