To Marie Antoinette, from a Girl Who Wore Her Prom Dress Two Years Running
Kelly R. Samuels
And have I mentioned its fake lace collar
with the tiny buttons left me scratching?
And that the two rayon bows on the skirt drooped, as if
they alone felt responsible for expressing my sad state
of affairs – this gown worn my junior year
when I went with two friends the same as
my senior year when I went with my boyfriend. Because
money was tight and:
We aren’t made of money
and
Money doesn’t grow on trees.
Oh, for the chandelier earrings you ordered
part livres, part credit! To the tune of.
And your Wardrobe Book – prick of a pin, swath.
And your yearly dress allowance a decent ranch
in a decent neighborhood in a smallish city.
What bounty!
Only my shoes were new
both years, worn down
to their discount-store heels.
Kelly R. Samuels is a Best of the Net and two-time Pushcart Prize nominee, as well as the author of two chapbooks: Words Some of Us Rarely Use (Unsolicited) and Zeena/Zenobia Speaks (Finishing Line). Her poems have recently appeared in RHINO, Cold Mountain Review, DMQ Review, The Pinch, and Quiddity. She lives in the Upper Midwest.