“In the Pink,” a Rumpus Original Poem by Maureen Thorson

By

In the Pink

I walk the beach
by the Tickle Inn
and I know
that breakups suck.

There’s some camo
you can try
to conceal you
from yourself

but the skirt
keeps riding up.
I know. I’m sad, too.
The sugary white sands

of ovarian cancer
and the Lifetime Channel
slowly pouring
from the glass.

Jellyfish are goo
and survive by
being poisonous,
transparent.

I can’t do that,
but I’ve got goals:
to become
a certified personal trainer/

nutrition consultant.
Let me tell you
how
to look like me:

the flamingo
with the rick-rack
tail
and rhinestone eyes:

black as yes
and shining,
an enormous
personal growth

that a hot and shirtless
hubby watches,
plushly thanking
gender roles

for less than complete
coverage
of athletic rounding.
Forget him, girl:

straddle
that airbrushed sunset
and feather
your nest

with this advice:
be the bower ballad,
the last one standing.
Ride the curl.

Maureen Thorson

Check out the Rumpus Review of Maureen Thorson’s Applies to Oranges.


Original poetry published by The Rumpus. More from this author →