Call me sweet, mousy, quiet, unassuming,
rather like a tall librarian who wears glasses
and lurks along the stacks. But know this:
When I am 70, I shall have flame red hair,
wear décolleté with abandon,
stagger into morning on spike heels,
laugh raucously with my gut, drink beer for breakfast,
give perfect strangers poems written on lavender paper.
One morning you will come to my apartment
and find I’ve gone to Buenos Aires
to dance tango in San Telmo on Sundays,
under the leaves of the aurancaria trees.
You’ll caress my fourth published book
and say I knew her once.
But you knew me not at all.
This video comes from a trip to Buenos where we found tango dancers dancing in the street in San Telmo. The prompt, eccentric, comes from today's OCTPOWRIMO, that eccentric group of writers who will write a poem a day through October.