She writes poems I can't understand
But I like to hear her read them
She always writes about the men in her life
And how much she doesn't need them
She likes to read her magazines
And float away on dreams of riches
But her poems are peopled by virgins and trolls
And horrid ugly witches
But as she reads them she does interpretive dances
Around and around the room she pirouettes and prances
Ask no questions she has no answers
She's one world famous dancer
She doesn't cook too often
But she eats quite well thanks to friends
She regales us all with tales of jerks
We always know how it ends
