Friday, March 20, 2009

more closet poetry

Closet full of
old clothes and the
fabric hangs like
empty skin -
a wool sweater holds
the shape of 1998
while 2001 is a black
perfume-laced cocktail dress,
a cigarette burn in silk.
Some flat-footed summer of 1997
is birkenstock sandals,
too-small shorts and cotton T’s.
Northern BC is a corduroy jacket
with a poem folded in the pocket.
And she is a pair of jeans
with threadbare thighs.


At 2:03 AM, Blogger jhabes said...

For starters, what item of clothing is not complete without a cigarette burn, and for finishers (?) I definitely had shenanigans with you wearing that cord jacket.....maybe even hair-cutting shenanigans? word up, sista.

At 10:25 AM, Blogger Heather said...

oh the shenanigans

At 9:11 AM, OpenID cp said...

I can see this closet like it is my own!


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