← v9n2, Fall 2010Poetry · 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.
