
My Love Affair with Diane SawyerWho’s to say it’s only a one-way street? Why do I? I am not Lesbian, though She’s my good “shadow” I could not be.) More than great by the time my feet hit floors. My husband, of course, says she’s sexy– How Clintons have goofed, or George W., She is completely equal to her man– Patronizing–no Jane Pauley baby-doll. No Has a crooked mouth. Ms. Sawyer is so Everything on every issue, All over the globe. Arafat’s office, (She never even gets sick–no sniffles!) She stopped an Israeli army convoy In her British Khakis–her hair blowing Into prisons. She comforts. She confronts. At her clothes–and thank God for color Blouse and black tights, black rubber-sole flats. Lovely legs, today covered. I found out On ice, outside ABC studio Not seem too cold, since she is oh so Racist. She was dancing with an Afro-American Turn to take, black topper-coat matching her The world. I want my hairdresser to make Of bleaching my hair blonde like hers. (Oh yes: But as far as I can see she has no issues Poor Jessica Savitch drowned. Other Much too strong, talk wrong, don’t have Wild. He sees her, I know, for childish sex. To me In 2005: fame; money; looks; brains; Her score on wholeness or integration. - Timeslice: Houston Poetry 2005 |
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