key-laden ladylet

your burlesque poetess(s)

carved a keyhole here

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key-laden ladylet
61. July 2, 2010 (last fri.)

"i came from work, i decided, 'it's ok, i have a pretty
face.'" Did i just say that out loud? Despite
half-deflated hair, please ignore smell
of my part time day job wafting off (free

me from Febreze products) i came
straight to my university of then, and now?
Parked in the teacher lot, applied a couplet
of six syllable lip products. My mentor

never needs mirror for blush, cheekbones'
enjambment. A reading spent squinting at
both of our silver shoes while scribbling,
surreptitious smart phone usage-- then we're

on a mission for nice underwear with my visitor
pass for the wrong side of Harvard Square.
Cocky that my cursive correspondence can
get me out of tickets lately, watermarked roses.

Both of our reflections hold the elastic of fancy
clothes lines hip-huggers around our necks "it works
with pants waist size!" The saggy bottom
part of the panties, dangles like cotton beard,

a fruit of the loom feed-sack under her chin.
"Are you a vegetarian?" Not anymore, but if it's
tofu crutons and eggplant mush, to Veggie Planet.
i've never felt more professorial, trading boy

tantrum tales. "You must like living here." She
interjects, imitating her baby's old lady walk
while people trying to get into the 24 hour market
wait for the pantomime to finish passing

the doorway. i'm never more of a spaz than
with her rock star clogs. The shopkeep that kept
boutique open for us had asked after some neck
craning, "Are your shoes sparkly?"
"Yes, but only trying to keep up with hers."

week9: 1, 2, 3, 4
archived on poetesss.tumblr: week1 - week2 - week3 - week4 - week5 - week6 - week7 - week8
weekly archives ~
my poem-a-day 'llustrations


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