The Twenty-One Inch Waistline

Sometimes I get the silliest memories.

The Twenty-One Inch Waistline

 When I was young –

As yet unsung,

I yearned, no, burned

To be like she

Who had a waistline twenty-three:

I was twenty-four.

Hungered voluntarily.

Now they’d call it self-starvation,

Anorexia;

I soon set sights on twenty-one.

There was envy,

There was vanity.

Oh, if I could only be

Like her.

But I remained a twenty-four.

It wasn’t in my nature

To be less or more. 

These days I’m fine

With my twenty-four/five inch waistline.

 

Twenty-One Inch Waistline 11.22.2017

Circling Round Vanities I; Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

 

Holding On To January 2012

          Holding On To January

 

I tried to hold on to January.

It didn’t function.  Gone.

Surprise!

A February.

Tried to grab a ninety-three

Arbitrarily.

I’d found a piece

From eighty-three, and eighty-three

Touched yesterday.

I tried to hold on to last year,

Last month, last week.

They leak away into vacuum

And attempt at memory.

There is a sense of the ridiculous

In all of this.                                                                                                                                                                           

 

Holding On To January 2.25.2012

Circling Round Time II; A Sense Of The Ridiulous;

Arlene Corwin

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