Pepsodent Smile

Some time ago, I posted “Lambs”, about a beauty parlour for little little girls.  The girl in this piece could be a survivor of that.

 

Little girl, straight from 1955;

Striped summer frock, cardigan,

White shoes, bare legs, and

Elegantly coiffed.

 

Mother to the woman,

She will stand beside her walk-in closet,

And say, “Tah-dah!”

 

Or just maybe,

She is a spy in the house of convention,

Lying in wait with her Pepsodent smile.

 

 

Car Hood

This is a little piece of flash fiction.  The events are true….from long ago.  Car hood

 

Look Across

My  alter-ego Balthusian finds himself in a moment of tender realization.  (he recovers, and will be back) 

           Look Across

These two wipe mudless feet, pawing like mares.

Their sweatpants shift in that almost dance.

They stand in that oh so easy, so

Artless, strange contortion.  It’s

A mystery that, known only

To  young girls waiting at a counter,

There celebrated, and only there.

They see the large man and the small girl.

The small girl holding his hand, gazing up.

They smile at the small girl.

They were there, once a dream ago,

But now they tete a tete,

Sipping cold water through straws,

Smoothing cream cheese on toasted bagels.

That large man with the small girl,

Balthusian knows his days are numbered.

Too soon, the small girl will not look up;

She, too, will look across.