“Our p—ies ain’t for grabbing,” the poem concluded. “This p—- is for my pleasure and giving birth to more nasty woman.” Planning started fewer than three months ago from the home of ...

You give me tea. That's big of you. I'm on my knees, I beg of you. SIMON:A poem written in the voice of somebody living on the street requires, I think, a certain amount of empathy. You have to ...