‘An entourage of slovenly blondes’
-Jay Hopler
Slovenly blondes, mussed
and unbuttoned,
in feathering snow,
in ice-burst of spring,
in cloudless, unsparing summer –
slatternly, come!
Catchpenny, gaudy,
untethered by girdle,
in wind-shatter
storms of September,
in charring of fields –
torn-stocking, come!
Lipstick-smeared,
loose-bosomed, huddled
at awnings, shadowing
storefronts,
in twilight’s first quiet
flicker of neon –
lush-frowsy, lax
and ambrosial, sidle
and steal in your undulant
plodding, pale
across lawns, dumb
as white ox
to your beauty,
for I’ve become
burdened and
wearied with hope
chests of linens
smoothed dull as
a snow bank,
tissue-wrapped
hosiery, unsnagged
and untrammeled,
immaculate
collars, tidy
peignoirs,
sweaters that wait
each day to be
sullied, full bureaus
of blouses,
frail and unstained.