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limerick she was a secretary in toronto

by Dawn Davidson

she was a secretary in toronto
not her folly, prepared to type alot

the margins told the biggest story of her
day, night was washed with worship of love

dreams unfolding, her bliss of error-less pages

kept her tame saturday night on the town of toronto
was whiskey sours shy men dancing for the hell of it

rent demanded to be paid she could type real well
an actress of sorts, beautiful telephone voice

her legs showcased hidden desires in clients
subliminal feelings built into the job

though in truth her farm girl body-type was
more in line with wood chopping mad mountain men

but toronto gave her her walking shoes, her trolley
of assorted shops new shoes to wear, love handles calling her

being a secretary in toronto gave her skills references
that held her true to herself, pay her own way stay free

buy a house, maybe travel study art see Michelangelo's
ideas upfront, get her own blueprints of existance in a city

turning on and off, acting silly for her boss she would
rebel turn wild into a forest seeker poetry gave her the

diligence to have a will and that she held between her
brows and kept her sanity at bay like a good girl does

she even with young looks got a night job to, being hostess
on a float captain john's lobster steak boat, harboured near by not a joke

every night this secretary turned on the charm, placing
tourists at the tables their desire, in exchange got a steak

every night at ten o'clock with captain john looking on
not bad for a young tart just 20 but already ready

for the consumer world of turn on and turn up
being pretty i guess, but also smart as a whip

made it easy for her to take apart the day and sleep
on it giving fingers a rest it was fun turning back

the covers and working her stuff


Author's Note: oh the secretarial arts, prefer the sciences, but hey, wanted to get a place, and make myself a dream, a place to hid in well i thought about life

Posted on 06/13/2018
Copyright © 2018 Dawn Davidson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 06/13/18 at 06:22 PM

Oh the humanity! Well honed ma dear. The form, words...imagery, message work together to form a cohesive arrow into the mind.

Posted by Glenn Currier on 06/14/18 at 11:02 AM

You captivated my imagination with this poem. You had me flying to Toronto, lighting on her shoulder like a bee waiting for a flower to blossom and then watching it do so. Thanks so much Dawn. Your piece is imaginative and quite lovely.

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