in O'Leary's
paved back yard.
I was sporting
my togs,
and legwarmers.
A length
of wool secured
a notice
attempting to
explain the motive
of my costume:
'FAME'.
I'm gonna live forever,
Baby, remember my name.
My sister then,
in furry mittens,
knitted layers,
the perfect kitten.
Hair contrived
to look like ears,
her sign
relaying the already clear:
'Puss In Boots'.
A recent recall
of her fluffy shoes
while I wore socks
revealed my mother's weak excuse;
Averil had thrown together
her own costume.
