8 August 2006 | Vol. 6, No. 2

The Substitute Bridegroom

by SARAH GOLDSTEIN

1.

Were we down so better than

to take the dress off

and waste my chance again?

Why don't I put on

her suit and tails,

girdle and thigh bone:

she's so big now

we'll need the well—

after you have that

brother of hers help you

put in her dresser

and lace up her boots.

Neglect is where

my belt is fastened

'round her carrying waistline,

dragging the hems in dirt.

Get that bridle under her backbone,

put that stirrup

in the hole.

2.

Horses tried once

around, twice around

without a break—

drag race gin bend

again. Little Suzy shoes.

Dog feet in the trash

pile, diggers in the ditch.

It's late for the little ones,

it's gone 'til the next

confession.

Please Palestine, Fat Chance:

let her be just a while away.