Paula Varjack

Tuesday, November 24th, 2009

surrender dorothy…

by Paula Varjack

Grow up Dorothy
Let down your hair
Lose that tired gingham dress
And take note that little dogs
Are so last season
I’m curious darling
What makes you so afraid
Of a magical place that
You want to go home?
There’s no place like home?
Are you really telling me
That there’s no place like…
Lets address the matter again
Keep the red heels ok
They’re fierce
They give you some kind of
Maybe that’s what the wicked witch sees in you
Maybe that’s why the good witch
Is looking at you with that
Glittery glint in her eye
I saw you go all shy
Looked down demurely
I know you felt it
I saw you breathless
When she stood behind you
Quietly chanted with you
There’s no place like
She was giving you
a chance there you know
And you chose
Let me tell you something darling
One day I woke up
In a random bed
Head still heavy from whatever
Substances I’d taken from the night before
Totally unsure of
what day or week or year it was
And this
Was the moment when I proclaimed
Paula… you are not in London any more
But the difference is
I like Oz
And I’ve met wicked witches
And good witches
And boys pretending to be wizards
At various things, music, art, technology
Promoters pretending to be courageous
when actually they were
Far more cowardly than that
lion you were hanging with
And techno tin men who could have benefited
From having more of a heart
Its scary at times, I empathize
But darling
I can’t get away from the fact
I’m very confused by the fact
That in a magic land
With magic heels
And a self proclaimed good witch
(who could have been magic in bed)
darling dorothy
you chose… kansas?
I mean if you had to go stateside
Surely san Francisco, new york
Or even Chicago are more
How shall I say this
Somewhere over the rainbow
You may find that there are people
Who trade security for the unknown
And you know what you may be right honey
There is no place like home
But home my dear
Is where you claim it
But I’ve got to go in a minute
See I’ve got this date
With the good witch
And I was wondering
Maybe I could borrow those red heels…?




Night Chat
Paula Varjack

We were outside smoking
Winter hours made four pm feel like midnight
The countryside sky free of air and light pollution
Had so many stars our city eyes were
Nearly blinded
I exhaled wearily and said
I was heartbroken
He, my friend, cast me a withering look
Said “stop wasting your time with men
You’re far too clever”
He’s a sometimes feminist
part time misogynist
I suppose he thinks
It accentuates his swagger

My newfound interest in men has
Placed me lower in status
He maintains that I should know
Better and women are far more complex
Allegedly. All I know is
men drive me distracted
(the men I’m drawn to make me crazy)
most women I’m drawn to are crazy
(so which side of clinical insanity would I like to be
I mean, where does that leave me? )

I shook my head, locked eyes with him and said
Listen, seriously man, I’m heart broken
And the stars laughed
And the night grew darker still
He stubbed out his cigarette
And walked back in
With not so much as a word in my direction
I think he preferred it
When I was lesbian



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