“What Do Women Want?" by Kim Addonizio

"What Do Women Want?"
(Kim Addonizio)

 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 cafe, 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
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment
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
dress they bury me in.

“Envirez-vous" (Get drunk) by Charles Baudelaire

"Envirez-vous" (Get Drunk) by Charles Baudelaire, from Les petits poèmes en prose (A few poems in prose, 1857).

"Enivrez-Vous"

Il faut être toujours ivre, tout est là ; c'est l'unique question. Pour ne pas sentir l'horrible fardeau du temps qui brise vos épaules et vous penche vers la terre, il faut vous enivrer sans trêve.

Mais de quoi? De vin, de poésie, ou de vertu à votre guise, mais enivrez-vous!

Et si quelquefois, sur les marches d'un palais, sur l'herbe verte d'un fossé, dans la solitude morne de votre chambre, vous vous réveillez, l'ivresse déjà diminuée ou disparue, demandez au vent, à la vague, à l'étoile, à l'oiseau, à l'horloge; à tout ce qui fuit, à tout ce qui gémit, à tout ce qui roule, à tout ce qui chante, à tout ce qui parle, demandez quelle heure il est. Et le vent, la vague, l'étoile, l'oiseau, l'horloge, vous répondront, il est l'heure de s'enivrer ; pour ne pas être les esclaves martyrisés du temps, enivrez-vous, enivrez-vous sans cesse de vin, de poésie, de vertu, à votre guise.

Translation (Christopher Munden):
"Get Drunk"
Always be drunk, that’s all there is; the only way not to feel the horrible burden of time that bruises your shoulders and pushes you into the ground; get drunk and stay drunk.

But on what? On wine, on poetry, on virtue, on whatever you want. Just get drunk.

And if one morning you wake up on the steps of a palace, on the green grass of a ditch, or in the dismal solitude of your room, your drunkenness already disappearing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock; ask everything that flies, everything that groans, everything that rolls, everything that sings, everything that can speak; ask what time it is. And the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock will answer you: “It is time to get drunk." Don't be a martyred slave to time. Get drunk and stay drunk. On wine, on poetry, on virtue. On whatever you want.