A shame you blew me off. I shaved my legs,
the sheets are clean, the dust poodles all gone.
I’ve spent the day lounging in my new dress
or standing at the mirror (it does attest
I’m looking pretty hot) and drinking wine.
A shame you didn’t make it. I shaved my legs
and finished that novel about a family mess:
an affair, a murdered child, a mother stricken.
I’ve whiled the hours lounging in my new dress.
I even wore lipstick. I try to want you less.
Night and not even a message on my phone.
Too bad that you aren’t here. I shaved my legs,
cooked veal cutlets. I serve the cat the dregs,
shimmy out of Spanx, my black-lace thong.
I wash my face, slip off the wrinkled dress,
put on sweats and think how I would press
against you. I touch myself. I’m so alone.
Again you blew me off. I shaved my legs,
another wasted day, waiting in some new dress.
Ed. Note: The villanelle is a notoriously difficult form to master. I, a great believer in the value of constrictive verse forms, regard it as far more challenging than the others I have tried -- the sestina, the sonnet, the pantoum, the canzone, the tanka, you name it. For many years now, Beth Gylys has made the villanelle serve her narrative and lyrical purposes reliably, with good nature, candor, and humor: an achievement it gives me pleasure to salute.
You're the Beth!
Posted by: JC | January 16, 2021 at 02:35 AM
JC,LOL.
Posted by: Beth A. Gylys | January 16, 2021 at 03:41 AM
Love it!!
Posted by: Nin Andrews | January 16, 2021 at 05:02 AM
I value the villanelle highly among the poetry forms - I've written one successfull one but never a successfull sestina! Bravo Beth.
Posted by: Andrew Burke | January 16, 2021 at 05:46 AM