She talks too loud, her facea blur of wrinkles & sunshinewhere her hard hair shiversfrom laughter like a pine treestiff with oils & hotcombing O & her anger realer than gasolineslung into fire or lighted mohairShe’s a clothes lover from way backbut her body’s too big to be chicor on cue so she wear what she wantPeople just gotta stand back &take it like they do Easter Sunday whenthe rainbow she travels is dry-cleaned She laughs more than ever in springstomping the downtowns, Saturday pastwork, looking into JC Penny’s checkingout Sears & bragging about how when shefeel like it she gon lose weight &give up smoking one of these sorry days Her eyes are diamonds of pure...
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