I’m pretty sure gluten

Makes me sick

Which in Italy is like saying:

Sorry, I’m allergic to food.

Maybe that’s why I’m happier here.

Or maybe I’m just a disgusting narcissist

And I was tired of being ignored

By men and teachers.

Here I get attention

All the time

Firefighters shout hello

When I pass them by

On my bike

And artists like my work.

I’m so used to my new tribe

That when I’m in New Jersey

Just across the river

The sight of inelegant women

Outside a bar

Suddenly reminds me 

We haven’t taken over the world.

Yet.