by Shane Allison
I need a dress.
Something silky & soft
against my hairy legs.
I want to raid my mama’s
closet of Gucci purses
while she’s away in the mall
browsing through Sunday dresses,
sifting through skirts & sweaters,
eating egg rolls & Styrofoam plates
of fried rice. I want shoes that strap over
the ankle, lipstick to shade the mouth
that blow-dries manicured nails.
I want something sequined
& over the shoulder,
Something with the color blue in it.
I need perfume tonight.
Colors & dyes at the nape of my neck
to make the men go wild.
No kissing you’ll smear my lipstick,
make my mascara run.
I’ve got black beneath this dress.
A dick easy enough to tuck between my thighs,
There’s 4 hundred years of oppression under here.
Stereotypes in wispy eyelashes.
Sticks & stones in the hymn
Of mama’s pretty red dress.
Men want to know my beauty queen secrets
As they clinch a bitch in their fist in claustrophobic
alleyways. They long for breasts, tissues to stuff
in borrowed beige bras from wives
& girlfriends who work late at the office
in the only shoes that will go
with that mini-skirt.