The Poetess

She looks every
bit the part
Bohemian in that
San Francisco
beat way
Straight shimmering
black hair
hangs waist low
Dark eyes peer
between fluttery
fringed lashes
Contrast sharply
with Goth-white skin,
Complement
blood-stained lips …
She stops short
of a beret
A beret would be
a touch much
You can tell
she knows this…

When she reads
her work aloud,
the cadence
in her voice
Evokes ivory
towers and esoteric
literary magazines
And sets
lesser souls’ teeth
on edge as they
grip their chai

She writes
her causes loud,
makes them
seem important
That’s also what
her bio says
and it is
purportedly true
The tracks
on her arms
are just for effect
Her agent alleges;
he is not known to lie

She is making
a comeback
after never
having gone away
And isn’t it grand,
Isn’t it simply grand

S.E.Ingraham©

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “The Poetess

  1. In my mind, I am her. I have the long black hair and pale skin; that’s a start, right?

    I love this poem. I would delete the last two lines, though. They threw me and seemed out of place. I’d end with “after never having gone away.”

    This part really makes the poem extra delicious:

    “She stops short
    of a beret
    A beret would be
    a touch much
    You can tell
    she knows this…”

If you're so inclined, I'd love to hear from you ...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s