earthmann

her creamed dishpan hands
tug at flesh-toned pantyhose,
then smooth Sunday rouge
onto to her fleshy cheeks,
framed by pinstriped clothesline hair.
then smooth Sunday rouge
once again
onto the dimpled skin
bared by the scooping neckline
of a second-hand evening gown.

ready for a shiny night in a dusty town.

in the parlor downstairs,
beneath the muffled blare
of big band radio,
smoke floats from a Lucky
man, patient in an oversized easy chair,
the first gentleman caller since Dewey thought he won the election.