line your eyes so everyone will see your wet despair, your hairless hope.
coax your hair to look like the picture from a magazine (torn edges, you stole it while
waiting in the grocery line)
wear your heels like cat's bells so everyone knows where you are, what little mischief
you will accomplish next--
twitch on their table--let them pin you down
as they try to understand their own creation(you).
the effort is
heartfelt.
then
stand at precipices, skirts billowing
around you in a shell
and bellow from your gut (not your petticoat, nor your girdle)--
I AM NOT VENUS--
SHE WAS NOT BORN
Thursday, October 7, 2010
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