Frying Potatoes
So, here I am frying potatoes,gone the self confident woman
of earlier today! I'm back to back
in jeans and a jangly top that
doesn't jangle, a bit of a flop really.
I got caught in all the mothers of
a downpour today, the sky
cracked wide open and there was I,
suited, not booted, open toed
and without an umbrella,
not that I think that would have helped,
rivers ran down the pavements
and streets, and I didn't meet you,
for which I was grateful, I don't
do drowned rat very often
but when I do, I do it with aplomb.
I've learned that middle aged women,
hell, we do it well, its all still there
and more, except we do
decadence with elegance
and I did look good but perhaps
the mirror was squint but I did
get the part, my aria days are not
quite as over as my lovers are.
In the kitchen, frying potatoes
they are so hot, crispy
and the rain is still beating
except my roof isn't tin
and dammit, I'm not as thin
as I was when I first got the part.
Poetry by Elle
Read 818 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2013-07-29 at 20:14
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Peter J. Kautsky |
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