I could bawl and bawl just thinking of the ankles, the
birds, the electric organ soundtrack to the imagined mornings, and the
sunshine, it must have been fierce and cubist, teasing through the station
wagon’s windows onto their faces..
Did the light gold eye shadow spread easy over the lid, or
did you need a special set of tools? How many purses were there to choose from?
Who was the easiest to wrangle out of bed? Who finished their toast?
On the beach I am surrounded. A pregnant girl with a face
like a pony dips her Roman feet into the lake; her stripes contain her belly –
perfect orb – leader of
everything. They are speaking Portuguese, they are distributing snacks, they
are waiting for a baby to come.
After you left them in the carpet room, where did you go, how
did you occupy your granted hours? Rubber wheels on linoleum. A slew of other
women passing by. The micro click of the second hand as the plants kept growing.
I could bawl and bawl. This is one of my favorite songs. But
I like rock music. My bare feet are planted on the rainbow fringe and I am
forgetting to make a movie out of it in my head. Turquoise, red and cream. Children and their women. Women and
their children.
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