I believe that I wrote this poem in Ken Mikolowski’s poetry workshop at the Residential College back in the “good old days.”
She who seldom wore make-up still did not.
On the occasion that she would, the application was wrought
of sheer boredom, and the substance borrowed from her roommate.
She who shared the room with she would seldom wore make-up used the substance daily.
Not because she was vain and not because she was not beautiful.
More so as if playing dress up as a child. No matter how old you become,
the substance is always your mother's.
She would seldom wore make-up has a mother.
She who is the mother of she who seldom wore make-up had her ways of making
she would seldom wore make-up fear the substance.
She who was the mother of she who seldom wore make-up had somehow convinced
she who seldom wore make-up that the substance would only exaggerate all
she who seldom wore make-up always already tried not to see.
She who was the mother of she who seldom wore make-up and she who seldom wore
make-up never spoke of such things as substance and therefore any and all esteem
lacks in she the mother of she who seldom wore make-up and myself.
The main thing that amuses me about this poem right now is that I don’t think there is anyway to satisfactorily improve its grammar.
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