In a World Where Everything Is Ball Gown,
I’m Dancing in a Frock
Because powder-blue mussel-colored pants,
a shoreline of cotton highwaters.
Because my mum bought her sweater
at Walmart and said, It reminded me
of the sweater Princess Di wore — you know,
the one with the single black sheep.
Because the new Sex and the City reminds me
I will never remodel my kitchen or live in New York.
Because I can do the Macarena happily
while others are waltzing in tuxedos.
Because also the Electric Slide.
Because once I paid too much for a purse,
wait, for the name on my purse.
Because Princess Di wore Versace satin heels,
an Armani jacket, and a Ralph Lauren belt
of crocodile skin and still died in a car crash.
Because revenge dresses can be made merely of lipstick.
Because someone made a bumpersticker that read:
Those who say you can’t buy happiness
don’t know where to shop.
Because I’m dressed in evergreen bows and rosemary
blooming in the wrong season.
Because violets are nature’s pasties.
Because cha-cha-cha, I don’t even need a frock.
Because I thought my heart was a designer brand.
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