Brown Pantsuit in  Work Poems   

On the back-rack there's a brown pantsuit with a
flask in the pocket. get back. An empty spinning
tie rack. get back. I'm afraid I don't own
a little black dress. I confess. I'm weak, I'd say

There's a coffee shop down on the corner
where they don't care if you're on track, pay
your rent on time, 'cause the cream is real,
mini-pitchers with big-breasted curves.

I'd theme and theory me into dark corners,
get dressed in my resumé for the fashion show
at nine. Shove the hanger and yell--get back!
I don't own you. Let me show you how young I am.

By echoshindig

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Other poems by echoshindig:

• Astronaught
• Bedroom Companions
• Brown Pantsuit
• Closet: Early Morning
• Comfortable Lies
• Drainroom
• Escaping the Undead
• Everday Machines
• Hospital Cafeteria
• Housewarming Party: The Uninvited
• Inertia of the Overworked
• Inventory
• Last-We-Met
• Letter to the Gardener
• Liberty, Part One
• Love and Summerdust
• No Repairs
• Old Illnesses
• Sister-Fire
• Some Things Have Died
• Sunday Conversations with a Quieter Life
• Undead Ambitions
• What Winter Damns
• When It's Quiet in Your Kitchen