Fig Leaves and the Tattooed Lady

03.29.01
11.24.03

The archetype of the tattooed lady… “what is the slow room in a cone?” Smell of dust on mahogany library shelves, grad students’ eyes across the room – 2 floors down in an elevator.
“I thought the peasants were important.”
Last summer I took a fistful of yellow pills every day, a thousand milligrams of blue powder in
gelatin capsules
Ativan-manacled ankles….
too tired
to
wash any clothes
or wear them
and tears fell down my face when I brewed tea.