You've gone and I'd like to spend two hours crying,
Then tell all my friends you're a jerk,
Then write you a bitter and heart-scalding letter.
I can't, though. I'm leaving for work.
I think of revenges like hacking your e-mail,
Or sprinkling your salad with lime.
But it all has to wait. If I want a good heartbreak,
It has to be on my own time.
One has to be calm to write catalog copy
From nine until five on the dot.
So I sit in my cubicle drinking black coffee,
Whether you love me or not.
(this piece first appeared in The Lyric)