1968 Spiegel Catalogue
it’s bare-armed to keep you cool
all summer long
bow and streamers in back
The mom looks at the daughter looks
at the sister whose skirt comes just above the knees.
The mother looks at the daughter looks
at the dress and sees the flat curve where
breasts should be, at the flounce at the hip
where hips should be. Later that evening,
after the roast and the potatoes are scraped into the
trash, she will unpin her hair.
She will sit on their bed and kick off her white heels.
Hair unpinned she removes her dress, showered
with stay-in pleats, and picks up from the floor
her daughter’s dress, garden-full of flowers on a float
and slips it over her head. Shivers before the mirror
bare-armed, hand washable, her breasts push outward
her hips almost visible against the celanese,
fortel, polyester and avril rayon blend.
She swatches her bare thighs back
and forth, and closes her eyes a little.
It’s just a dance in this moment, it’s just a foil for the roast
and potatoes, it’s just a jackknife hammered into her heart.