tree dances

She was often sent outside to play,
because her mother had headaches,
and she had to play quietly,
or it would make her mother's headaches worse.

So she danced.
She made dances for the grass, or
the trees, or
the wind.

summers in Georgia

She took an afternoon nap
while someone ironed her frock,
and then two boys would pick her up in a convertible
and take her out to a tea dance.

She loved to dance of course -
the waltz,
the foxtrot, maybe they danced the tango
maybe the rumba.
They didn't lindyhop,

but they had a maid
who helped taked care of them in New York,
a lovely young woman
who liked to go out dancing,
and she showed Aileen and Pat the lindyhop,
which they thought was quite wonderful.

dark green silk

In the living room,
she wasn't allowed
to sit on the cushions
of the big plushy couch,
because they were down
and sitting on them
would leave an indentation.

In her room,
her tiny girl's bed
had dark green silk covers,
so she wasn't allowed to sit on the bed either.

And there were no chairs in her room.
And she wasn't allowed to sit on the floor.
So she stood and looked out the window a lot.

There was a safe in her room
where her mother kept her fur coats,
and a dresser where she kept
her perfume and
jewelry and
such.

Her mother was a real piece of work, Aileen says.

She was just tall enough to look over the hedge, and he cut one yellow tulip and handed it to her.

dust on the footlights

In Aileen's first dream,
she was dancing.

She was a tiny girl,
but she wrote it down.

She was in a theater,
and she could smell it.

thirteen

I had new blue walls
and a new blue shirt

I invited five boys
six girls
to stand in a circle in the driveway
to drink orange soda
and play seven minutes to heaven
in the bathroom,
the closet
Truth or Dare on the front lawn with
one rule: Nothing Lame Like
You Have To Kiss Each Other

so we turned off the lights
and all twelve got on the bed
we piled and tangled ourselves
then turned on the lights to see where we were
and with whom
and we laughed
we turned off the lights
over and over again
hands and elbows finding softness in the pitch black

we got stuck
over and over again
we wanted everything

stop it stop it stop it

don't ask me so many questions about it
just so you can tell me i did it wrong.




that's the way i wanted to do it
that's why i did it that way

berries

once he said
I would like to eat your smile
I think it would taste like rhubarb and blackberry
and I wonder what he meant by this
I was so charmed by his use of poetry in the bedroom
that I didn't think about it at the time
I guess that,
for him,
my mouth-
when the corners turn up
and my teeth show-
is sweet and tart, juicy,
full of summer and
pleasure and
warmth,
but also,
undeniably,
sour.