ellowynne poem

silly one I wrote

for Chills:


I like the grays of gloomy days,
the ticking tocks of antique clocks
in empty rooms with warm red oak;
I leave without a sweater or cloak.

Flashy gold and lots of bling
are far too bold and not my thing:
My grandma’s beads fulfill my needs
for embellishment and fashion.

Frips and frills give me the chills:
Wool and velvet, silk and satin,
gleaming silver feed my passion.
- - and the Vintage clothes my glamma
gran collected when she was young.

Nights out I stop at Pru’s mom’s shop
and sit and sip midst walls of oak
and warmth of books; erasing need
of sweater, jacket. coat, and cloak

I am nineteen come Halloween;
to save my mind, I leave behind
obsessive wrath of dear Ms. Plath,
for earthy scribes tune more my vibes:

Whitman, Eliot, Sandberg, Frost;
cummings, Corso, Ginsberg, Patchen

Pink Martini, Django Reinhart . . . .

From here on out, I take time out,
my time-out doll in hand;
I take up brush to fill the hush
by which my mind expands.

"Drivel! Drivel!" scribbles Sybil
- - "Fa shizzle!"

AliMcJ for Ellowyne Wilde’s 19th Birthday