Monday, February 1, 2010

ruby, part 1



anyone familiar with the writings of joseph moncure march, best known for his long poem "the wild party" will recognize this immediately as an imitation



ruby was a redhead and she knew the score
she worked in a department store
but she wanted more
much more

persian rugs on the floor
a house by the seashore
a rich husband who wasn't a bore

rings on every knuckle
golden slippers with silver buckles
high heel sneakers with silken laces
every hand - four aces

she wanted to be a rich mans wife
and never work another day in her life
as she stood on her little feet all day
she thought there must be a better way

some people in this lonesome town
never look up and always look down
and say i'm lucky that i am not them
and thank the lord amen

but that was not ruby's way
today or any other day
like a buttercup
drinking the suns rays
ruby always looked up

like a teacup
lifted to elegant lips
in stylish sips
on round the world trips

ruby looked around
but no satisfaction she found
her ship had run aground
right into the dog pound

when would it be her turn?
was it too late to learn
how this low account life to spurn
and began to seriously earn



ruby's avaricious dreams
flowed in never ending streams
as she stood at her post
like a restless little ghost
mrs carson approached
and the subject was broached

of the return of a pair of shoes
this was old news
mrs carson's persistence
was the curse of ruby's existence

she would waste ruby's time
for a dollar or a dime
buy and return
buy and return



with fate's permission
she taunted ruby with unearned commission

ruby managed a smile
but all the while

as the blue earth turned
her white hot ambition burned




part 2

3 comments:

Jenny Enochsson said...

Dang! Routine can be devastating, turning visionaries into zombies. A tragedy!

Great poem, rhoda. Looking forward to part 2!

PO said...

I loved this poem, I recognise element of my life in.

Ande said...

Indeed flowering, ideas and colors.