I rediscovered this old poem and thought it captured my mood today, since i have just left one job and am working with two other employers to determine what i will do next, though really, it's a done deal. i was unemployed for several hours (not bad in this economy). seemed to me that there may be amongst us superior bloggers seveal who could, perhaps, relate to this old poem, originally entitled "working girl," it now called "Blue is My Collar."
level fields and books
I thought I’d never read.
I am sharing a subway car
with men at least twice
my age but with briefcases
at least twice as small
And me, I feel like the tallest-
short girl in the car who still young
has traveled into orbits I never
when I stared at the Parliament
blue sky from our London
council-flat window. Never knew
Orbits, whole worlds, where I
can be a waif or seductress
curvaceous in my black
tights, hips switching as
I walk from my sphere to yours.
I am a cat on the prowl, Pissing
and chewing and spitting out
your double-diplomas. Me —
the one you said never Could.
The one you said would be Plain
and the same and the same
as our Yorkshire cousins.
Pouring pints into half-wits
who’d father our children
and with a clip, Keep the Bitch in Line.
Well it’s high time now and my time now
and time and time again and Yet —
One person stops towing the family line
and that’s it:
You are free as a sparrow
soaring on the first breath of Spring.