Humanistic woman,
Yet not humane,
Fat with ideas
Bursting off the seams.
 
Can’t keep 
Probing her thoughts
In a world that
Laughs at its own jokes.
 
She tightens her belt
But fragmented sentences
Keep rumbling
Inside her belly.

She can hear them
Revolting in her guts.
 
She is hungry,
She doesn’t even know
How to keep her diet in check,
How to digest all those stewed letters.
 
Fat with ideas
Bursting off the seams. 
She is hungry,
Yet she doesn’t even know
How to concoct
Some random verses.

There is not even rhyme
And even in freestyle
That is a recipe for disaster.
Read fast,
And eat up
Till there are no words
Left in the pantry.

Come over
Lithe seamstress.