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i lingered in the back room
where you sat with little interest
watching the rest of the show.

and all the while,
you knew what we knew;
those other girls,
they didn't have a chance.

you let your robe fall open,
and your naked body was like
new fallen snow
on filthy Brooklyn streets.

your smile told me
you did this for all the boys,
but your eyes said
it was just for me.

Now, there is a memory . Interesting how she still made it personal for you. I really like your use of contrast with the visuals of innocence [new fallen snow... in that younger body] and presumption of guilt [represented by the filthy streets], as she does something not quite so innocent with her new fallen snow, younger body... and then you take her not-so-innocent actions with all the boys and return it to an innocence with its seeming to be just for you. Back and forth throughout it... beginning with the contrast of her 'worldly' knowledge of her power and impact with regard to the other girls, who didn't have a chance. I like it.

Have you ever tried to find out where Molly is today?


~ Lizzy

I’m glad you dig it, Lizzy. It’s so interesting to hear another person’s take on it. I left it a little ambiguous for just that reason.

Molly Crabapple is an artist, illustrator, and one hell of an entrepreneur here in New York City. She’s also been known to occasionally grace the stage as a burlesque performer, though I’m not sure she dances too much anymore. I’ve had occasional run-ins with her in the past and this poem was written after one of her performances. It’s entirely auto-biographical. She herself has actually read it, and liked it.

I never realized how imaginative readers could get when faced with the ambiguity of the piece. It really does kind of leave things open for interpretation. Thanks for showing me that!

Warmly,

-ph

I don't remember how young I was when I was first drawn into the allure of the written word. I remember the feelings I had when I first read something that kept drawing me back to it over and over again loving the way the words were arranged, the music in them, the magic. It is what inspired me to try my hand at poetry, to try to find the magic that those master magicians make seem so easy.

I found this same joy in reading your poem. I've read through it at least ten times now, and still am drawn back to it. It is gems like this that keeps binging me back to this thread, though usually as a lurker.

Thank you
Vern

Vern, I don't know what to say...except that I'm honored and humbled all at once.

Thank you for the kind words. It's especially meaningful coming from a writer such as yourself. I've really been enjoying your work.

-ph

Your details make it even more interesting, Pinata. I'm glad you still know very much where and what Molly is up to today. You're right that I read sexual promiscuity into it. It becomes even more sensual knowing it relates to burlesque. Reading about it from a man's point of view through this poem is somehow really special.


~ Lizzy