Warning

   Things I didn’t know until fairly recently: The famous poem about wearing purple (by Jenny Joseph) is actually titled Warning. I’m sure I’ve read or heard that thing a hundred times, but I never knew the name until I wrote a parody of it based on my personal feelings on aging.

Ode to Warning!

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which, wait, screw that shit . .

I shall wear a purple velvet tunic

with a red lace bra that does fit me

Hot Damn and it doesn’t have to suit anyone but me.

Victoria has her secrets, after all.

I wouldn’t know what to do with a satin sandal but I’ll have good quality

cowboy boots and I’ll wear men’s jeans if I have to, but I will wear jeans.

I shall spend my pension money on new canvas and brushes and still live just fine;

when I sell the paintings people will get misty eyes and say “I wish I could paint like that.”

If they had spent forty years practicing, they could.

I’ve been sitting down on the ground when I’m tired for years.

I won’t run my stick along the railing ‘cause that’s a damned nuisance

but I will give you a good smack with it if I think you need one.

I will go out in the rain in my bare feet, and plant flowers in other peoples’ gardens.

I’ve been spitting for years, too. You can’t bale hay if you don’t spit.

I’m a great example for my children.

I’m teaching them to be themselves and care about other people,

Not be what other people want and care what other people think.

I think that I’ve been old since I was about three

And my mother wanted so much for me to behave like a lady

I behave like an old lady

And I wasn’t kidding about that stick.