By Marina Rubin
To the girl in a striped dress
standing by the side of the road
like a ladybug with painted lips
as trucks trumpet and honk
to the hollow-eyed girl who counts the minutes
as happy travelers e-mail home
about golden cities and foreign gods,
the lonely planet keeps turning
to the girl with legs made of jell-o
who marches up the telescope tower
thinking this is the beginning of the way out
and that beauty will change the world
to the girl who laughs like a cello,
dancing on the curb of a fountain,
convinced that she must live in a moment,
forgetting that there is a tomorrow
to the girl who sits on the bench
in the Old Town Square
and watches the horses piss
Girls…don’t worry,
scrape your toes and buy souvenirs,
stroll on the bridge and sit in for a portrait,
the knight will come,
just as quietly as the monster
Copyright Rubin 2012