dressing room

I am learning things from poetry books.

Things like: remove all pronouns.

Squish together astonished words, make those words blush

no thesaurus--know them heartfully or not at all.

Things like: paradox is the root of good words.

       (what stronger proof is there for resurrection?)

Things like: this decision to sound wise suddenly

the attempt, this new jangling anti-rhyme,

the smirks behind opaque pages behind opaque eyes

behind the nod of 'yes, oh yes'

     fits like the low-cut dress

     my mother stamped her foot against

     in buzzing neon dressing rooms

     years ago.