my trip to northampton and the girls at smith college

a great find...
from not so great a place.....

long long ways from here, speeding down roads where no one can hear me belting til my throat goes dry. i find im an escapist on those hills, in those tiny dug up towns dotted with fogged bars with trucks lined up outfront. i use bright lights blinding others, and sloppy, i knock the cherry from my cigarrette into the clean rented upholstery. dollar and speed signs pass my periphery and even those sirens can't remind me of where i am.
sleeping in someone else's bedsheets washed in liquid detergent, on pillows that still hold last night's perfume, i am not home. i have the rich girl disease today and i decide i am a princess. columns on houses whiter than their oil of olay face wash and french-tipped pedicures. its contagious, i decide- like conjunctivitis- getting it from the bed and embroidered terry cloth towels in the bathrooms.
newspapers telling you how to dress and ripped jeans are a sign of abandonement. and when you park your BMW dont be afraid to move it because we all drive to impress others.
trellised gardens, topiaries in the shape of crosses, and gazebos i nickname gazebras. smoked salmon and strawberry lunches...i am full.
and i return to the heartland, half surprised i can still survive, half impressed i am to be grateful. because sometimes i want three-hundred dollar shoes, well-exfoliated skin, and a spray-on tan.
sometimes i wish someone would clean my bathroom and feed me chocolate dipped fruit.