Fashionista
I’m dazzling fashion baby, fashion whore.
Corsets hide my emblem, my tattoo,
a mirrored magpie. It will be on show
as fashionistas lurch in gladiators.
A magpie’s eye lets me accessorize.
I love the sequins, have the gift of bling.
My breasts get seasonal repackaging
(the plumed god requires sacrifices).
I die for sparkly zippers on ripped denim.
What else is there to love in the time of cholera,
but Miu-Miu’s bondage bows, of tulle in silver,
the must-have bliss-dream in her store, a gem?
I’m all about the Look, finding the Look,
how I look in the mirror, seeking what I seek.
Karen Greenbaum-Maya is a clinical psychologist in private practice in Claremont, California. She started writing when she was 9, and majored in German Lit so that she could read poetry for credit. She is yet another cat-loving feminist anti-war grammar prescriptionist for solar power. Her poems and photos have appeared in O Tempora!, Superficial Flesh [PDF], the San Diego City Works Press 2008 anthology Hunger and Thirst, New Verse News, The Dirty Napkin, Lilliput Review, Umbrella, Poemeleon and Off the Coast. She was nominated for the 2010 Pushcart Prize.
qarrtsiluni 