Poetry Monday

"What Do Women Want?"



by Kim Addonizio





I want a red dress.


I want it flimsy and cheap,


I want it too tight, I want to wear it


until someone tears it off me.


I want it sleeveless and backless,


this dress, so no one has to guess


what's underneath. I want to walk down


the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store


with all those keys glittering in the window,


past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old


donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers


slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,


hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.


I want to walk like I'm the only


woman on earth and I can have my pick.


I want that red dress bad.


I want it to confirm


your worst fears about me,


to show you how little I care about you


or anything except what


I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment


from its hanger like I'm choosing a body


to carry me into this world, through


the birth-cries and the love-cries too,


and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,


it'll be the goddamned


dress they bury me in.