Nov. 12th, 2008

ladymirth: (calvin euphoria)
In Honor of Dorothy Parker

Who needs babies, homes and lovers?
When I have mischief, pens and papers
The ink shall run blood, bone and tears
That’s been my miser’s gold of years

My pain shall transform into prose
Tomfoolery into wisdom wrought
I’ll pick apart my scabbed sores
For red ink never so dearly bought 

I’ll wrench every hurt from this heart of mine
And viciously count them literary dimes
Where other women’s eyes leak useless brine
I’ll weep bitter poems and limerick rhymes

I’ll dress my dreams in gilt and sequins
To tempt and capture the naïve young
I’ll barb my ideals in weary witticisms
To appease the cynical senile ones

Say! Fine lady and dashing gents,
Won’t you buy my pretty lines?
Woo fine society for a few cents
Cheaper than high art or French wine

And when I’m dead, they’ll take the scripts,
In whose ink dries my life’s sum total
They’ll point and ponder and critique
And hail me another unhappy immortal


June 2009

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