← v9n2, Fall 2010
Poetry · Volume 9, Number 2

Ochre xviii

10ueenly, she half-smiles. I pose her

1nder the patio umbrella, sweltering August.

1mperious, she gestures toward the rubied letters,

8’s & O's aimed at her son—air kisses to embarrass

1r needle me. She pushes my buttons,

1ipsy with her third gin & tonic.

1n the photo, her hair could be her own.

2hemo, though, has shaved her eyebrows clean. |Q|U|I|X|O|T|I|C|—

1 windmill before her, armed with L&Ms & Beefeater,

3ravely she charges. Two Hundred Forty-Eight!!

1n a reverie now,she’s thoroughly snockered:

1ow try to top this, college brat!

3arrulous, voice still hoarse from the radiation,

1ut of the bag she draws her new letters. A hiss & a grin.