Short Leggings Poems

A diesel fitter was on twitter,
He said, "We make leggings with glitter!"
When they are done
He is the one
Who then says, "Oh yeah, diesel fitter!"...

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When I was young
My friends' parents were old
Tweed-skirted sensible mums
Vague shadows in the kitchens
of my childhood world.
Now I'm a mother,
a shadow of myself.
In my leggings and boots
I have tweed-skirted opinions
And hush puppy ambitions....

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Saddle back shoes or shag if you please
Trends by the thousands, hair as big as you can tease
Yoga and Yo-Yo’s; Yuppies the majority of the crowd
Leggings and Levi’s; Colors vibrant and loud
Eyelashes as fake as the breast upon your chest
Styles they come and go as we try to look our best...

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She smells like nothing 
To the whole world 
Tattered dress ripped leggings 
Pigtails on the sad girl 
No one sees her face
She slinks around 
All hopes and dreams 
Shattered no fortunes found
Onlookers judge her dirty clothes 
Unrecognizable the sweet 
Child of nobody and no one
Raised in the street
She smells like nothing
To the whole world...

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She liked her desk
middle classroom
history all dates to memorize
that's a headache
Mr. Otto must be 90 (to her 8)
halls and rooms
all familiar
scent of school glue and chalk
learning to dance in gym class
Boys you knew all your life
after school dress her sisters in 
winter leggings
walk the mile home
snowballs
red house on a hill
winter playbook...

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Out for a walk to get some air
Some folks dress up but most don’t care.
The jeans or leggings people wear 
Are hardly worth a mention.

Fancy clothes out here are rare,
Deserve a glance but not a stare
For even those who do prepare
Don’t get that much attention.

I don’t think that I’m alone 
In stating lately I am prone
To dress in ways I’d not condone
When following convention....

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She wore thick leggings
our childhood polio albatross
mass Sabin vaccine sauce
body snatcher ritual
fixed beautiful legs.

(In early elementary school she wore braces most of the way through 6th grade. We all went to the nearby JHS to drink the approved Sabin vaccine. By 7th grade she had healed. She had beautiful, working legs.) She has recently, physically passed. This is in remembrance of her.)...

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Pink leggings with a red shirt?
She said it in a mean way with her mouth curled up.
YES! I agreed, a happy smile on my face.
She tried saying it in a different mean way.
“Pink leggings with a RED SHIRT?”
“Of course,” I said, spinning around so she could see me better.
She tried again.
“Pink and red, red and pink!”  I sang cheerfully.
I made a whole song about it.
Sang it proudly and loudly.
She left in the middle of verse six....

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Dressed UP

I got up early, 
before the dawn...
and dressed to impress. 
I had nowhere at all to go, 
or to be, 
I just wanted to remember, 
what it was like, 
to see the world, 
and ride my bike. 

I put on a fancy hat, 
and long leggings. 
I knew it would be cold, 
and I am old. 
My bones hurt, 
but I refuse
to let that stop me... 
from being who I am, 
and who I am... 
supposed to be. 

God made me, 
exactly as I am... 
on purpose....

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young nurse backed out of the transparent clinic door
she no longer wears scrubs but I wish she did
she has on flesh-colored leggings
I imagine she is bigger than I am, and I wear an eighteen
anyone over a six should not wear flesh-colored leggings
I make a note of this
oh, my, this was the nurse with the beautiful blonde hair
It is awful now, dyed in four colors
faded pink, bland purple, washed out green, gray yellow
Don’t women have mirrors anymore?...

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In spite of me
He makes her his
And responds to
My leggings
To cause me pain
Might I speak her
As mine
Might I speak her
As mine
Opened to
Suggestions
That it pains me
To think of those
Moments together
And I am indestructible
Am I served
To a new concern
In my confidence
Am I a fool
To speak to the level
Of this intensity
And who finds audience
In my suffering
To undermine me
And have me feeble
Who wishes me
To lose the momentum
I have gained...

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