I don't know.
Do not ask.
I've never had a red-fringed dress,
wasn't allowed the fringe much less
the fabric, but still I'll have a try
if you will attend while I imagine
a shawl with wheat colored tassels
and overblown salmon roses,
printed sage rose leaves,
triangular, on some artificial silk
hanging on the crooks of my elbows, just so,
so I can be a lady.
Don't you know that's out of date?
We're all so tough these days,
but wait,
I already donned a bonnet
with more, real roses on it,
and if you don't stop me, by god,
I'm almost going to pen a sonnet.
I just don't know what we can do
without some fine, flat, rounded shoe
to take us lightly to our host,'
tripping gaily as a ghost,
and I can't wonder what is said
when at nine or ten o'clock,
I excuse myself and go to bed.
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