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