Admit You Feel like All the Bathing Suits in Alaska
(after Helen Mort)
by Alison Stone
Shipped by a clerk’s mistake,
dropped on the dock, then warehoused
next to powdered milk and first aid kits.
Absurdity has made them earnest.
Halters tied in jaunty bows, perky
underwire pointing to the snow.
They’ve never travelled laps
across a hotel pool, or hugged
the torso of a hopeful teen.
No one’s gotten burned in them.
Bottoms folded next to tops,
polka dots and ruffles
create landscapes inside crates.
Imagine how they’d hold a body.
How many sizes.
How exuberant they are.
How they’d dive
off icebergs if they could.
Published in Dazzle, Jacar Press 2018