Response to Larue’s Improv 1, Post 8, Week 12
At Twenty-three
It was all so different from what she'd expected.
Only one wheezing Ford for the two of them.
At one time she was almost engaged.
First she tried teaching, then writing.
Now she just tries for a paper.
Not enough men attempt to satisfy her.
One man convinced her to tithe, but she did not sing.
Her family makes sure she doesn't starve.
When she thinks of the Middle East she draws a blank.
Her last lover, the drunk, always wanted her to cry.
Blue jeans and T-shirts, the only clothes that can keep up.
She can only grow a cactus.
Really she wanted to sing, or surf.
Her major, Mass Communications with
a minor in English, her native tongue.
Grades, drafts, and a box of rejections.
Sometimes her grandmother sends her apples.
Fake ballet in the living room, a cat and a dog,
crying for hours in front of the mirror.
She says, whatever happens I will keep my heart.
When she giggles she sounds like a child.
Only one wheezing Ford for the two of them.
At one time she was almost engaged.
First she tried teaching, then writing.
Now she just tries for a paper.
Not enough men attempt to satisfy her.
One man convinced her to tithe, but she did not sing.
Her family makes sure she doesn't starve.
When she thinks of the Middle East she draws a blank.
Her last lover, the drunk, always wanted her to cry.
Blue jeans and T-shirts, the only clothes that can keep up.
She can only grow a cactus.
Really she wanted to sing, or surf.
Her major, Mass Communications with
a minor in English, her native tongue.
Grades, drafts, and a box of rejections.
Sometimes her grandmother sends her apples.
Fake ballet in the living room, a cat and a dog,
crying for hours in front of the mirror.
She says, whatever happens I will keep my heart.
When she giggles she sounds like a child.
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