{"id":61,"date":"2020-03-05T13:11:00","date_gmt":"2020-03-05T13:11:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/2020\/03\/05\/a-poem-for-thursday-71\/"},"modified":"2020-10-26T20:50:43","modified_gmt":"2020-10-26T20:50:43","slug":"a-poem-for-thursday-71","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/2020\/03\/05\/a-poem-for-thursday-71\/","title":{"rendered":"A Poem for a Thursday #71"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n\n\n
<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Photo by\u00a0<\/span>MontyLov<\/a>\u00a0on\u00a0<\/span>Unsplash<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

Kim Addonizio is an American poet and novelist. I didn’t find a lot of information about her but I do like this poem that I stumbled across. I read it through three times which is my completely unscientific way to determine if I should feature a poem. If I read it multiple times in a row then there is something special about it.<\/p>\n

I want a red dress.<\/i>
\nI want it flimsy and cheap,<\/i>
\nI want it too tight, I want to wear it<\/i>
\nuntil someone tears it off me.<\/i>
\nI want it sleeveless and backless,<\/i>
\nthis dress, so no one has to guess<\/i>
\nwhat’s underneath. I want to walk down<\/i>
\nthe street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store<\/i>
\nwith all those keys glittering in the window,<\/i>
\npast Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old<\/i>
\ndonuts in their caf\u00e9, past the Guerra brothers<\/i>
\nslinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,<\/i>
\nhoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.<\/i>
\nI want to walk like I’m the only<\/i>
\nwoman on earth and I can have my pick.<\/i>
\nI want that red dress bad.<\/i>
\nI want it to confirm\u00a0<\/i>
\nyour worst fears about me,<\/i>
\nto show you how little I care about you<\/i>
\nor anything except what\u00a0<\/i>
\nI want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment\u00a0<\/i>
\nfrom its hanger like I’m choosing a body<\/i>
\nto carry me into this world, through<\/i>
\nthe birth-cries and the love-cries too,<\/i>
\nand I’ll wear it like bones, like skin,<\/i>
\nit’ll be the goddamned\u00a0<\/i>
\ndress they bury me in.<\/i>
\n
\n<\/i>
\n“What do Women Want?”<\/i>
\nKim Addonizio<\/p>\n

Here <\/a>is the poem Reese is featuring this week.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Photo by\u00a0MontyLov\u00a0on\u00a0Unsplash Kim Addonizio is an American poet and novelist. I didn’t find a lot of information about her but I do like this poem that I stumbled across. I read it through three times which is my completely unscientific way to determine if I should feature a poem. If I read it multiple times in a row then there is something special about it. I want a red dress. I want it flimsy and cheap, I want it too tight, I want to wear it until someone tears it off me. I want it sleeveless and backless, this dress, so no one has to guess what’s underneath. I want to walk down the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store with all those keys glittering in the window, past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old donuts in their caf\u00e9, past the Guerra brothers slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly, hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders. I want to walk like I’m the only woman on earth and I can have my pick. I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm\u00a0 your worst fears about me, to show you how little I care about you or anything except what\u00a0 I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment\u00a0 from its hanger like I’m choosing a body to carry me into this world, through the birth-cries and the love-cries too, and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin, it’ll be the goddamned\u00a0 dress they bury me in. “What do Women Want?” Kim Addonizio Here is the poem Reese is featuring this week.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1820,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-61","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poem-for-a-thursday"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/61","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=61"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/61\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2516,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/61\/revisions\/2516"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1820"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=61"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=61"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=61"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}