Songs

When I was sixteen I had a red hot Chevy
Bucket seats, white top, the steering not too heavy
I loved that car like a child loves a pony
shoe-blacked its tires
my freedom to ride
Now I am Bluebeard’s wife
I’d rather be Sleeping Beauty
“Honey, don’t open that door,” he says
though he gave me a master key
and I’ve peeked through the keyhole
always a guard on duty
a red light and odor of rusty gardenia
slips out from under the door
no bushes grow in the garden
a saint’s blood smells of roses
Blue was married before at least three times
no family portraits and I don’t ask
It’s so hot
I get tired here in the east
I could doze away the days
Blue thinks I’m too fat
too this
too that
Mama says
Curiosity killed...
the Cat may well undo me.