Early Morning Ramblings of a Twenty-Something Girl

A dream of a 1920s quasi-candid shot of
Debby Harry, mingling graciously among a grandiose Studio 54 scene.

Spray the lens of my life with hairspray, too!
Sorry, how petty I am.

Strangling a waist and shoulders with wires
and plastic planks that chew up my heel bones.
Sorry! It is getting late.

Not delicate in the least I am,
shielding a plump silhouette
like a ripe, fuzzy, plump plum?
No. I am not a juicy bite. A tart and gooey bite I am.
Sorry.

Packaged by flows of scratchy, crotch-yanking fabrics I am.
Please do not unwrap me.
Sorry. I am.

___

The featured image accompanying this piece, entitled ‘Aerial’, has been used with the permission of artist, Robert Alan, a mixed media artist from New York City.

Suzanne McHeffey

I am a 20 year old female, and I will be a Junior at James Madison University as a Writing, Rhetoric, and Technical Communications Major. I know nothing of the future and that is my favorite thing about life. (I chose not to include a photo of myself because I want this poem to live without a face behind it.)

Get the Most Recent Stories from Rollick

A weekly newsletter featuring new and emerging writers.

More from Rollick

In the Round Pen

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on this moment. How do I feel? What am I seeing? What am I hearing? Him.

Ezzie Minus Zero

That day, Ezzie didn’t fantasize about leaving her husband the way she did every other day of the week, which when calculated, amounted to five

Edit

Can’t you let the film spool unseen on the stained floor? Its frames forever static as my fingers resplice our hands. Let my battalions of