lady in red
I am cleaning out my closet.
You can imagine the mess.
An infinity of black dresses.
You'd think I am, like Masha in Chekhov's The Seagull, "in mourning for my life."
I'm throwing everything out
(well actually I'm giving it all to charity).
From this day forward, I will only wear red,
from here on out.
I've saved what I have,
three red dresses, and a couple of jackets.
One is more raspberry than red, but oh what a color.
I have saved it from the great purging.
I want to walk naked down the street,
reciting poetry.
But they put you in the loony bin for that.
Instead, I will wear my three red dresses,
in no particular order, and never all at once,
naked underneath,
and recite my poetry
anyway.
