Sex Change (Written April 22)

Sex Change

 

And it was, of course, a new umbrella,

Which he had left standing in a corner

Of the bedroom, behind a chair.

 

It was too late to turn around.

He crossed the street into the square.

A drop fell on his face, then another,

 

Then many. He began running.

No one, except his mother,

Knew what he was planning to do.

 

But he had thought it through,

And it was time. He wanted a new

Identity and a new lease on life.

 

He was sick of being poor Ned

Who couldn’t find himself a wife

If he tried. He’d be plain Jane,

 

One of the girls. Let the wind

Blow, let the rain

Fall, let the lights flicker

 

And go out. If he ran away now,

He’d only get sicker and sicker.

It was something he had to do.

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