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I was the offspring of mommy jeans and a boyfriend card;
I adored my Grannypanties, and lived for meggings and a biketard.
When I was sad, I got Dolman sleeves;
my shrug shrunk, sometimes even my top would trapeze.
Eventually I went double breasted and found a sweet heart neck,
despite some serious high-water jeans neglect.
I mean, I knew it was only an illusion bodice
in college, I got the whole pencil point, clutched a codpiece
and got a job, munching a baguette bag, pure messenger geek.
And I felt for: the hobo, circling skirt and heroin chic.
They’ll bury me in a coffin dress, ma
when I can no longer reach my shelf bra;
but yet may I haunt in shift and sheath,
the deep discounts of the underneath.

 


Merridawn Duckler’s poems have appeared in Oregon Times, Mississippi Mud, The Portland Lights anthology, Buddhist Poetry Review and The Pulitzer Remix. Her play in verse is being performed at the Last Frontier Theater Conference in Valdez, Alaska. She’s done spoken word to her TV and once gave a Midtown cabbie directions in Haiku.

© 2013, Merridawn Duckler

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