30 December 2012

Farmer’s Wife, circa 1963

THE cows would have to
wait. She unpacked the perfume
(mail order) after

locking her daughter’s
bedroom door. The bottle had
a baggy thingy

(like a docked blimp or
a tiny punching bag or
one of those Ambu

bags that medics used
in ambulances and in
emergency rooms):

that is, a perfume
atomizer. She took off
all her clothes and milked

a small cloudlet (is
that redundant?) of fragrance,
closed her eyes, posed her

arms as if they were
about to take on a load
of split firewood or

scatter the chickens,
and paraded through the mist.
Arching her back and

lifting her chin, she
could have been a model for
a hood ornament.

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