Almanac

When I’m Twenty-Two

There’s an evil, crazy woman And she lives right up the street And she swears she’s gonna ruin Every man she’ll ever meet. I believe her. She says her lipstick’s poison And her fingernails are razors Then she walks the town in spike shoes And Salvation Army blazers. She looks deadly. You can smell her poppy perfume From a half-a-block away, Watch her red silk stockinged legs dance As she turns around to say: Here comes one now. Then she’ll practice wicked magic, Lure some poor man to her room, Though I sit and watch her doorway Til the next midafternoon He does not come down. So I watch in fascination As she strolls around to meet them, When I ask her what becomes of them She says, “Why doll, I eat them.” Then she smiles. And every night I dream the same dreams: Wearing low-cut dresses And stockings with seams. And I know I can do it, too, When I’m twenty-two.