A friend I've known nearly half my life was driving me home, and along the way I flipped through a newly bought book of poetry by an Australian poetess named Rebecca Edwards. I found a poem with an unusual title and read it out loud, and somehow I thought I read well, or as he pointed out wryly, it's like how wearing a beautiful dress could make one look lovely. You try it, read it out loud won't you?

Finding My Voice, Who is Big, Bisexual and Bald, But Still Manages to Look Like Marilyn, by Rebecca Edwards

My voice and I
we don't sing each other love songs.
All the money's run out
and the words aren't so friendly anymore.
She says she needs some time
I'll hear from her solicitor.

My voice and I
we're seeing other friends.
I'm hoping something good
with wings and brazen Bassey lungs
will strip for me
on the iron branches
of the harpy tree.

Watch the way she lip-syncs
with a cutlass clenched in her teeth.
She's size eighteen, my pirate queen
and she's signed yours truly
on my abdomen.

Tell her
she can keep the money.
Tell the words I love them
blonde and fake
and burnt out as they are.