Thursday, July 16, 2015

underwear

Look in my underwear drawer.
Look!
It isn't neat.
Lace thongs tangle with cotton grannies.
Body by Victoria bras range from shiny new
    to almost Goodwill.
There's the green crotch-less bikinis he bought
     as a present to himself
     on my birthday, of course.
Underneath a Spanx, you'll find some stockings
     that used to go with that bustier
     until I lost the detachable clips,
     one by one, in various places,
     he and I under the influence
     of varying degrees of passion.
He's everywhere in this drawer! I didn't
     notice that until now.
It's just as well. I like having him there.
Ohhh! The black slip Grandmother gave me!
It belonged to her, but she had so many
     because my aunt kept sending them.
     "Don't tell Aunt ****," she whispered,
     as if she might be listening from the next room.
Oh, he's back! In a full length nightgown,
     in a grayish blue satin. Well, that
     sounded weird, like he was the one
     wearing it. No, he bought it for me.
     Really for me this time.
Haha, lacy black garter pantyhose.
Hello, built in buzzer.
Half of this stuff really has to go.
Or maybe we'll just give each one another go.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

the truth

Tell the truth.

I don't want to tell the truth.

Tell the truth.

I'm afraid of the truth.

Do it.

People read too much into truth. They reinterpret it according to their own view of the world. Their view of you.

DO IT!

I was born under muddy water. I didn't know right from wrong, no.

Cut it out.

By the time I was born, there were four other siblings.

I know that one too. Get to your story.

That actually IS my story.

You know what I mean.

I am the daughter of poor circumstances. I bargained with the future and I took my chances.

You're impossible.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

escape artist

My dog is an escape artist. After living in an apartment for several years, we've moved into a house with a gorgeous back yard. But apparently it's not enough for this former stray who once led a pack through the streets and desert. Nooooo ...











She tunneled under the fence. I was inside the house and recognized her barking coming from the FRONT of the house! I opened the front door and let her in. She looked so pleased with herself, the little tickturd.

I must admit that I have a little escape artist tendency too. It's harder for me to figure out where to start digging, though.