I couldn’t marry
The town forbid it
They put me in a little room in the corner
And kept me counting from noon to midnight
I made enough to buy gumdrops and licorice
I had been married once, in the 40s
but killed my husband with a wine bottle after a week
Bastard couldn’t kiss worth a damn anyway
Was some sort of terrible cross between Marlene Dietrich and Rock Hudson
talk about an identity crisis
It didn’t matter anyway
All the money I had earned over the last 140 years
burned in the great fire
along with the Bible, folk music, and all warm-blooded animals

08.17.2011