Best Janes Poems

Ripe tomatoes in the supermarket
The red tip of my own nose.
Their lime green imagination
Marauded by Edgar Allen Poe.
Her silver dollar face raises hellfire
Says the stringy girl who believes in ghosts.
Goodnight to the lucky cat
Who kisses my cheek with his prose.
Her calico hat sticks to dewy...

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In the rust belt loss of work is felt
as industries went overseas..
Bill's, Jane's and Bob's now pining
for jobs to support their families needs.
Good jobs are such a rarity and people here
don't want charity, so send us some good
companies please!...

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