Christina M. Rau
Snapshot
with thanks to poet Edward Denby
In a split second
a girl is
forever pretty.
It’s the rest of the time
that remains questionable.
When the mascara runs
after the camera flashes,
burning her eyes to tears.
When her stubble sprouts
5 o’clock sharp,
legs, under arms,
under her nose.
When the skin of her heels
cracks white
When her cuticles
become hangnails.
When the foundation
sweats off in the sauna,
during a tennis match,
in the throes of passion
while the cellulite of thighs
jiggles in that spot right below
her glutes, which shake, too.
When the flesh of her upper arms
swings when she waves.
When her contacts come out.
When her hair frizzes up.
When her scar gleams red,
still bright red
after so many years.
But in that one moment,
her eyebrow raised,
lips closed in a small smile,
irises blue,
cheeks blushed,
hand at her chin,
hand at her hip,
the glinting barrette,
her black dress hugging
hips, cleavage, tight,
a dewy glow all over her skin—
that’s all she needs
to make the boys eternally sigh.
Christina M. Rau is the founder of Poets In Nassau, a reading circuit in New York. She has
been published in magazines like the now-defunct New Graffiti and Chronogram. She teaches
English at Nassau Community College. She loves moonbeams and puppies. And sarcasm.
Home
Issue Four
Snapshot
with thanks to poet Edward Denby
In a split second
a girl is
forever pretty.
It’s the rest of the time
that remains questionable.
When the mascara runs
after the camera flashes,
burning her eyes to tears.
When her stubble sprouts
5 o’clock sharp,
legs, under arms,
under her nose.
When the skin of her heels
cracks white
When her cuticles
become hangnails.
When the foundation
sweats off in the sauna,
during a tennis match,
in the throes of passion
while the cellulite of thighs
jiggles in that spot right below
her glutes, which shake, too.
When the flesh of her upper arms
swings when she waves.
When her contacts come out.
When her hair frizzes up.
When her scar gleams red,
still bright red
after so many years.
But in that one moment,
her eyebrow raised,
lips closed in a small smile,
irises blue,
cheeks blushed,
hand at her chin,
hand at her hip,
the glinting barrette,
her black dress hugging
hips, cleavage, tight,
a dewy glow all over her skin—
that’s all she needs
to make the boys eternally sigh.
Christina M. Rau is the founder of Poets In Nassau, a reading circuit in New York. She has
been published in magazines like the now-defunct New Graffiti and Chronogram. She teaches
English at Nassau Community College. She loves moonbeams and puppies. And sarcasm.
Home
Issue Four
All rights reserved.
Chickenpinata
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| a journal of poetry issue four |