I bought a new name today
from a seedy man at the flea market
with oily hair and an oily smile
and a plaid sportcoat that
he opened wide to show me
my selection.
I left it in its box,
I’m going to get it out tonight and
become the new me.
(It’s secret until then.)
The grass was spongy from the rain and all the dealers were tired
because it was so late.
Some of them were packing up,
wrapping poor stained dishes with
wrinkled bits of newspaper.
This man kept his stock in his suitcase
for fast getaways.
He opened his suitcase and
drew out tables and chairs
and clever imitation Tiffany lamps
he sold as the real thing.
He thought he’d found another sucker
in me. No one ever
really renews themselves, you see.
He didn’t know how desperate I’ve gotten.
Who fooled who?
A rose by any other name..?
you ask, afraid to finish.
No, I say,
first the name
and then I change,
day by day till I’m a rose.
Or an onion.
You’ll see tonight when we open the box.
by Cher Bibler
