Just ignore this part.
I'm a freak about the microphone no matter what's going on.
So just-- never happy with it.
Been told that by every person I've ever dated.
All right, here we go.
So here's-- I'm going to read both of these.
These are both in the exhibit.
Now, the first one, there's a lie in the first one.
I don't feel like telling you.
It says we hit the deer with my car.
We actually hit it with my boyfriend's truck.
And I mean, like, a truck.
He drives a truck for Walmart.
He's not my boyfriend anymore either.
But the thing is, that's--
but it just didn't sound right in the poem.
It's my poem.
[LAUGHTER]
"Part of this forest tastes like the man
I love with an actual number of nails
holding the bedroom together.
Other days. when we died where we fell, we became the forest.
My car never intended to be a meat grinder, another face going
under the waves.
We felt awful after hitting the deer.
We made love and slept with one of his antlers between us."