Poetic snapshots, mostly travel-related. Please submit your address below to receive e-mail notices when new posts are added.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Throwback Saturday!
Patsy's First Rehearsal Speech
I see those yearly lectures she gave us,
the explanations, the sick disclaimers.
Though in her screams there'd never be a cuss
or slap across the face, and no scars maimed
our scrawny bodies, the year would promise
psyche games, words that dug like sharp-tipped spades
'tween girls and parents. She knew how to hiss,
take your icons and spit on their new graves,
smash your pride and shove your body. She spied
at birthday parties, (lucky I was young
still-growing and skinny), still she would lie,
smother my spark of respect; her words stung.
But Her Girls reaped reward from all her work
coz steel-eyed ghosts get the jobs in New York.
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