Hey there. Our usual Fashion Friday post won’t be coming this week — so sorry! — because I’m busy with writing conference stuff. I’ll get back to posting as usual in October. Until then, it might take me a little longer than usual to reply to comments. Thanks for sticking with me.
And if you’re going to be at Writer’s Digest Conference West this year, let me know!
Today was the homecoming pep rally, and we were all encouraged to wear our school’s colors, one of which is purple.
What? It’s purple.
These are the Iron Fist brand American Nightmare shoes, but I like to call them my zombie stompers. They have a shoe like this called Zombie Stomper as well, but I don’t care for its neon color palette. So there.
I’ve got spirit, yes I do. I’ve got spirit, how about you?
These shoes have four-inch heels, and they make me almost as tall as some of my students. Win.
I especially like the little bows on the backs and the criss-cross lacing up the heels. And the poetry fragments on the inside don’t hurt.
I love fascinators. They’re cute and interesting, and featuring them this week allows me to continue my month-long pursuit of slightly-less-than-typical accessories. I have a few fascinators myself, but nothing quite as fabulous and fancy as this one, here:
I wrote this sonnet when I was in college, meditating on the theme of love presumed to be inherent in the sonnet form. I thought, love takes many forms, and so, this…
***
Lullaby for a Crying Child
When my cousin died (olive skin and thick
black hair and twelve years old laid under dirt
and roses) I realized that death is
not a one-way gate, but is a long silk skirt
in the rain: shadows of skin inside the silk
(bare legs running to get inside, get warm)
stick to my skirt until I peel the silk
from my skin, and hang it in the bathroom.
My cousin (body of a child with eyes
and mind that have just turned twenty-three)
visits me in my sleep, touches my fingers, and I
look at him, then through him, and he leaves me
but not alone. And I wake to rain and
my skirt dripping from the shower curtain rod.
***
This poem originally appeared in my first published volume of poems, Gypsies.
With a full-time job teaching high school and two children advancing through elementary school at an alarming rate — particularly a daughter whose behavior has led me to believe Eight is the new Thirteen — I think a lot about peer pressure and what’s happening to our kids socially. (That’s a topic for an entire blog, and I’m not about to attempt it in a single Fashion Friday post.) One thing that I try to do, to help the kids in my life see it’s good not to follow the herd all the time, is to be as Continue reading “Fashion Friday 9/6/13”→