by J.S. Mueller
I’m quite in love with my Jane Doe
Though she has no head. How is that so?
I’m not really sure I know.
But no, my lover is not dead.
She’s right as rain, just lacks a head.
Jane has lots to recommend her:
Having no ears, I can’t offend her.
I can prattle on for hours or days
About sports or guns or Chevrolets,
And my love just sits. Not having ears,
I need not fear boring her to tears
(An added blessing, since she has no eyes—
Don’t you despise when a woman cries?)
She could be a genius, but you’ll never know it,
Without a mouth she can’t well show it—
Another plus, you must agree.
Do you not envy lucky me?
No shouting, sighing, fretting, crying,
No glaring, staring, squinting, spying.
I am not nagged, wheedled or cajoled,
Criticized, goaded or controlled.
But from her neck down to the floor
My Jane is all I could ask for.
I stroke her hair, her lips I taste—
They’re both down there below her waist.
She lacks a head, but what’s the fuss,
Since I have one for each of us?
So now you know--can plainly see--
Why Jane’s the perfect mate for me.
About J.S. Mueller
J.S. Mueller--a pen name--is a transplant to Kentucky who writes stories about broken people, unusual relationships and redemption. And the occasional satirical ode.