Today I Bought a Dress and Wrote a Poem

Today I bought a new dress. I bought a new dress today. A new dress I bought today.

Was it a lovely dress? A lovely dress it was. A lovely dress was it? It was a lovely dress.

I bought a new dress today, and it was quite pretty.

It's got flowers and colors, and it doesn't look at all icky.

It's beautiful, it's bright.

I'm planning on wearing it Friday night.

Friday night is concert night,

and I'm telling you I will be a sight.

The girls they will be jealous

and the boys they will tell us

That the girls in the lovely dresses,

Why, yes, they are indeed the bestest.

I love it quite a lot,

It was no dress that I sought,

When I walked in the Target store,

My eyes not paying attention to the floor.

I browsed, I glanced, I took a look,

But not of the clothing seemed to go by my book

I decided to try the clearance rack

In search of something, cheap and yet not at all whack.

And what do I happen to find

In this seemingly hopeless search, of the fifty-percent-off-rack, of mine?

Why a gorgeous, flowing, timeless dress,

So much better, and clearly a cut across the rest.

Only Ten dollars and forty eight cents

A bargain to anybody with common sense.

I picked it up and tried it on

And, oh how I shone,

In that lovely, gorgeous dress of mine,

Why, I knew I would shine!

Today I tried to write a peom.

I tried to make it flow make it wind,

Make the words rhyme

I feel

that, perhaps,

it could have been a little silly,

clearly nothing more than an attempt

But I hope that people see it as something more

Something that came through with meaning and sound

Something that would clearly resound in whoever'd

be reading it at the time.

A work of genius, of beauty, of contemporary contempt

A work of silence and sound, of vintage and modernity.

I feel that it had gotten the best of me.

For I worked, and I tolled.

Why, this keyboards drips in my metaphorical sweat.

The sweat of a mind at labor.

The sweat of a brain, a hand, a pen, and a paper.

The tears of a frustrated young girl.

Frustration! At the inability to put together heartwarming words.

All about the complexity and the deep story of a new dress.

A brand new dress! What could possibly be less of a topic than this?!

It's all right, she says, just breathe, she says.

Well, she breathes, she calms, and she waits.

Waits for that instance of brilliance, that sweep of confidence.

That tremble of a hand, working hard at the literature in its presence.

That's what I did.

I sat.

I thought.

I wrote.

I conquered.

Well...I don't know if conquered's the word I'd use. Kinda.