Progress
(formerlyI am, I really am, I was)

You is a winner, achiever, go-getter.
You likes to look like we've got it together.
You has our hair up, is wearing black leather.

When we get home and hang up the skirt
I appears in my old jeans and Led Zeppelin shirt.
And I lays down and thinks, ah, ten minutes won't hurt.

When you isn't watching and I is asleep,
Into our thoughts and our closet she creeps.

...pulls out the guitar
..and the first leather jacket we owned.
.....retrieves a poster of Anthony Keidis
.and that pastel drawing of Kurt Cobain
we were so proud of
suddenly memory caves into our mind - the way our walls
used to be plastered in bits of
Rolling Stone Magazine.

And secretly I wants it all back
But wonders if You would ever let it happen.

Copyright Celeste Côté Oct 2001 Back to the Poetry page Home