Escaping the Ugly Now

By Bethany Dowell

Rustic echoes invade the wind's solace,

Perturbing through windows, slicing the brick,

They wail. They yearn. They knock at paved Neapolis, 

Scheming back, the marble gleams pale and slick,

Clutching the cloth, so punctual, so pristine,

Exploited plants and soap convulse within,

She sings scrubbing to uncover a lone dream,

Chances to escape the chalked psyches are thin,

The towel is wrapped round and round and round,

Imitating tranquil with a silky sigh,

Suits and ties melt fern in the lost and found,

Wellies discarded for heels to conceal sweet rye, 

Perhaps she could switch late nights for rise once more:

Let the stilts dilapidate below in the grime,

Cruise again galloping, within the galore.

Her veins contort at the thought of the crime,

The fumes of tarmac, a distant form of lure,

Suppressing disdain, scathing the wheel was the cure.