Poet of the Week: Christina Springer

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Dinner Party In Yellow

serving people fixture the
mahogany paneled mansions
with glass stained, hidden

stairs, trap doors, floor board foot buzzers
we freely imagine ourselves Persian ~
one flaw hidden to remember ~ brown

paper bag ball gowns burlap sack legs
stretching over seas seers of fingernail dirt
under flesh colored glaze at the table

intoxicated by itty bitty siddity delusions
in rhinestone stilettos sly eyed badinage
bootstraps nailed to bare feet

our ears drink too much blood
we feed each other with our fingers
laughter too weak to lift food

whisper spandex suggestions
the new girl’s labia performed
the dance of the 7 veils

before her clitoris
demanded two satin spotlights
ostrich feather tongues &

copper penny eye shadow.
the new girl inhales I never exhales
the fuck, bitch. cracks the gold

leaf mirror glass she thought
were her friends. us not even decent
enough to squeal so sorry ~

just what it is
beneath fox stoles.

Christina Springer’s Poet of the Week