to give
them a few pints
of my blood.
it's who i am. what i do.
i'm so good, i can hardly
stand it sometimes.
of course i tell everyone
what i'm doing.
they need to know
the saint in me.
they need proof of my
goodliness.
but i'm rejected after
the needle
finds a vein.
the blood is no good.
they ask me how much
coffee do i drink
in a day.
i shrug and say, i don't know.
maybe a gallon
or so.
with heavy cream.
try green tea for a while
they tell me and come back
in a week.
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