Starring PINK

 

in the pink

flesh in a plastic cup. let pink petals fall forever.
the machines tick & click like wayward clocks-
every woman
reeks of fear.

here in a flowery robe, i gaze at magazine covers-
the women with full breasts smile in their youth.
others dress casually, assured in their poses

that all the recipes in the pages
will fill up your every desire & win over
lover & guest.

they don’t know who is looking at them.
who envies them enough to want to spit
at the calm fake candles glowing with
spa-like radiance.

glow. images on the machine glow.
i watch the blacks & whites move
as the magic wand
presses against me.

they are like ghosts & phantoms
dancing together. laughing crazily
from too much excitement.

now at home it’s raining. past 2 a.m.
i am tender & obscure.

i wish there were a friend to call.
i wish my family knew me well.

i wish i could feel the hard weight
of a good man linger

in all this tenderness.

-Heather Lenz

Poet, writer, artist, publisher, editor