Poetry of Issue #7        Page 54

pink slip   / 0ctober 20, 2019

what if she begs to stay w/you forever
in that tiny flat w/out daylight or a garden?
you might thrash at each other the first week

instead find ways to divide chores
let her job pay for a room elsewhere
before the night rearranges the stars

and you are talking to the moon, or flat out
on some edgy corner in a strange place
where only potatoes grow

yet that tuesday she sold her soul for a buck thirty-nine

some guy w/a pack of six cigarettes and a few matches-
but underneath her pink slip she felt his warm hand
unclasping the back hook of her bra, luckily

it was locked, but what a way to issue
romance, she frets, he grouses, tugs, and
everyone, who is anyone is there, when she steps

out in pink,
unabashedly coy,
if that is possible,

w/out bending

  ellen 'windy' (aug) lytle