I Thought I Left Big Hair
by Hillary Lyon
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back in Dallas
yet there she floats before my eyes
a foggy nimbus of buoyant blondes
ash honey corn silk
enough silver and turquoise jangling
to ransom a reservation
her little dogs on leashes eating
treats from a hand that betrays her age
her charity feeds multitudes
of little watering mouths
junior league symphony league leagues of artistes
anything to turn off the television because
even in airports televisions become
aquariums encasing all the troubles of the world
so much red swimming through the static
so many talking heads so many wired smiles
so much big hair on every available channel
that even her hands dream of becoming shears
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