The Second Time I Wore a Rubber Dress Was in a Dream
Outside the aged house,
bricked porch, archaic tree,
I held a white balloon
on the fringe of neighborhood.
Clutched my string, kept it just outside.
My feet anchored in sidewalk, streets
wrapped around, stretched into city.
Something winged splintered, popped,
sent it down like an angel fallen.
I wore my torn, rubber dress,
traipsed, threw hot air around the ruins
as they crumbled to the ground.
*Published in Dark Sky Magazine, online December 2009