By Sandra Kolankiewicz
Something is not right about the way you
look, he said, adjusting my collar, his
hands straightening my part a little, off
to be paraded through his secret life,
the ladies lined up at Wanamaker’s
to take us department to department,
amends nothing compared to chinchilla.
Was he watching the coat or the model
then, or at the bar afterwards, nothing
on the menu he wanted except the
woman who was leaving as we arrived.
Sandra Kolankiewicz’s poems and stories have appeared widely over the past 35 years. She lives in Marietta, Ohio.