She thought she was a pirate,
thought she’d sail the high
seas, pillage and plunder
as she pleased.

Somebody handed her a plunger

She thought she was a princess,
thought she’d ride a white
steed, braid daisies in her
tresses, frolic free.

Somebody handed her some pantyhose

She thought she was a poet,
thought she’d spill herself
to page, rage her cage open,
stage a coup, and win.

Somebody handed her







This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Identity

  1. Shawna says:

    Did you know that a tead is a torch? So your broken “insteads” become “in s teads,” which is for me, of course. I love that I’m turning my plunger and pantyhose into torches of power, like the Statue of Liberty. 🙂

    Also, the ending is very sad: “Somebody handed; he rapin’.” I perceive this as someone as violated her to a most painful degree. This “Somebody” sounds scary.

  2. Susan says:

    Yay for the 3rd hand …

  3. ihatepoetry says:

    Big smile – finally, she’s handed something she can use!

Use your words.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.