Mother said her mother said
“Fashions come and go, but style stays forever”
She had style, but dressed poorly
Her desire to address
Something more than her mother’s dress
I am haunted by her nightmares
And hunted by my own
To elude such fact, so far intact, I remain
Put together quite exact
Which is why
My current curt
Recalls a shirt (of all the rage)
Which pronounced
The stump of my passing
“Go jump in a lake”
With soothed malign, I do resign, to ask
Of what design this profits?
“Look before you leap” has never been worn
But awashed
I reflect too much upon such passing
And my dreams do drown on their own
