The queen’s gown hangs in the closet
A smudge of purple
Among the mothballs
The red shoes are kicked under the bed
Her tiara, its garnets missing,
Lies somewhere in the dirty laundry.
Even divested of her armor
And in the middle of the kind of misery
She can’t walk away from
She is wide-eyed and glorious.
About Devi P
I have had the good fortune of facilitating Devi P in two workshops. She was part of the Foxes in BWW and part of Ants, the first Short Fiction course we had. This insightful, evil, genius writer made a place in my heart by her writing and by being a great hostess, and friend, and compulsive cheer-upper. She is the President of The Ramanujan Project.
Devi, thank you for this very un-eulogy type poem. You do can write poetry as well. I will treasure this especially for the way you’ve seen me. Just like the way I see myself. And isn’t that the best kind of flattery, ever!
About Paeans for the Pain
All of BWW is coming together and writing me letters and poems to help me deal with the rubbish pain that is my life. I am, to put it simply, eternally grateful and so absolutely overwhelmed. Love you my animal farm. ❤